Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Wayne Manor had many offices, but Tim’s favorite was the one on the third floor, next to the spare bedrooms and the toilet that always threatened to overflow. Dick liked the office on the second floor, because it was filled with natural light from large windows which overlooked the side-lawn and marble fountain. Jason liked the office next to the library, because half the reason he came to the Manor anymore was to steal books he would’ve been allowed to take anyway. Tim liked his office, with its yellowed victorian wallpaper and boarded up fireplace. Nobody used this wing. He could work alone in peace and quiet. 

Tim had a long to-do list pulled up on his laptop. He sighed deeply and prepared himself for a long night of sorting Wayne Enterprise paperwork, combing through the Gotham Police Department’s databases, and starting the tedious process of keeping the Titans’ case files updated. Not to mention going over their new case so he could debrief the team tomorrow. 

Damian kicked open the office door. 

Tim was on his feet in a instant, anticipating some terrible emergency that—

“You told Grayson I’m being bullied,” Damian said, with a murderous fire behind his eyes that Tim hadn’t seen in a few weeks. Damian had grown a lot since he moved into the manor, it was almost sweet to see a glimpse of the spawn of satan he used to be. 

Tim had asked Dick to be discrete, but perhaps Damian had put two and two together. Dick was not the type to spy on those closest to him. Tim, well, he liked to know things. 

“You are being bullied,” Tim replied. He sat back down and straighten a pile of paperwork in front of him. Damian was beyond furious.  

“How dare you invade my privacy. You have no right.” 

“I’m trying to help you,” Tim said, “The jerks in your class are the bad guys here. I’m sure Dick will—“ 

“Shut up. I had the situation completely under control. You’ve ruined everything.” 

“Damian, something like this shouldn’t be a secret. If you’re struggling you should always—“ 

“Hear me now, Drake. You will live to regret this.” 

Damian stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind him that the stack of papers flew off the desk. Tim was annoyed by the dramatics, but slightly amused. He knew he’d done the right thing by telling Dick. In fact, the brat should be grateful he didn’t tell Bruce. Besides, it’d been years since Damian had last tried to kill him. 

What was the worst he could do? 

# 

Tim was a business major at the University of Gotham. Bruce had taught him more than any course ever could, but getting his college degree was about appearances. If he was going to succeed Bruce as the CEO, he had to look the part. Tim stared at the the professor of his Business Analysis Fundamentals course, a wrinkled old man, and forced himself to stay awake. 

Finally, in his hoarse voice, the professor dismissed them. Tim already had his bag packed. He slipped out of his chair and was the first out the door. 

“Tim.” 

He looked up and saw Conner Kent, standing awkwardly in front of a bike rack. He had his wireframe glasses on, which was a disguise Tim had never understood. His black hair was wind-swept though everyone else who saw him probably thought he spent time and hair gel to create a tousled, effortless look. He wore a navy blue pullover and jeans. The pullover seemed a bit small, or maybe it was just snug around his broad shoulders and strong arms. 

“What are you doing here?” Tim asked, suddenly wide awake. 

“I wanted to give you my answer in person. Tim, I really enjoy working with you. I think you’re great. I mean, I had no idea you felt… like this. I’m like, really, seriously flattered. But I don’t like you the same way.” 

Tim’s eyebrows shot up. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, leaning closer to see if his pupils were dilated. Kon looked normal, just extremely uncomfortable. 

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out an envelope. 

Tim recognized it instantly and his stomach dropped to the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” Kon continued, “Really. Your letter was so sweet.” 

Kon tone was nothing but kind, but the words hit Tim like a crowbar to the face.  

“I just think we’re better off as friends,” Kon said. 

Tim pulled himself together. 

He reached out and grabbed the envelope, crumpling it in his fist. Kon startled. 

“Where the hell did you get that?” 

His expression twisted with concern, and Tim wanted to scream. He also wanted to laugh a little, or maybe cry. He settled on tightening his fist around the stupid letter and trying to school his expression into something reasonable and not horrified. 

“Uh, you left it in my mailbox, right?” 

Tim’s mind whirled, until one word appeared in the eye of the storm. 

Damian. 

“Are you okay? Can I get you something?” 

Tim’s head snapped up. He needed to wipe that pitying look off his stupid face. 

“I do not like you. That letter’s eight years old.” 

“Oh,” Kon said, rolling with the punches, “Uh. Okay.” 

“Tim!” 

Tim whirled around, and there was Stephanie, power walking toward them. 

Stephanie. For a desperate moment he tried to convince himself that Damian wanted revenge, but even he wouldn’t be so heartless as to send them all. At least, not hers. He wanted to hurt Tim, not Stephanie. Not Cass. 

But Tim was only deluding himself. His eyes dropped to Steph’s hand, where she very clearly held a light blue envelope. Tim would recognize it anywhere. 

If he ran, she would catch up. He couldn’t disappear, not in the middle of the afternoon, not when she was so close. If there was one thing Tim understood it was strategy. He needed to focus. What resources did he have? 

He turned his back to her and grabbed Kon by his stupid shoulders. Kon tensed at his touch.  

“Can you do me a huge favor? I’ll owe you one.” 

“Yeah, of course. Is something wrong?” 

Tim didn’t answer. Instead he put one foot forward, closed his eyes, and pressed their lips together. His hands dropped to Kon’s arms, caressing him instead of grabbing. Kon immediately understood the assignment. He put one hand on Tim’s lower back and pulled him closer. Tim tilted his head and they deepened the kiss. 

“Tim!” Stephanie was in front of them. 

Tim stepped back. His heart was racing. His mouth was tingling. 

He tried to look like a love struck idiot, with a dopey smile. He reached down and grabbed Kon’s hand. 

“I’m sorry Steph, Kon and I have something we need to talk about. Like right now.” 

“What the fuck is happening?” She asked, looking between them and sounding more confused than pissed off. Tim counted that as a success, and he needed to get out of there while he was ahead. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Tim said, with a smile. He dragged Kon away, glancing shyly back at his face every few seconds. His very, very surprised face. 

Stephanie, miraculously, let them go. 

Tim dragged Kon across campus, and didn’t stop until they were behind the stands at the swimming pool. The air was filled with chlorine. The swim team was just beginning practice. The coach’s whistle pierced the air, mixed with the sounds of half the team diving into the water and the other half starting their laps. Behind the stands, no-one could see them.

Kon pulled his hand out of Tim’s. 

“What was that?” 

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, feeling more like himself. The walk helped. “I needed to give Stephanie a reason to leave us alone. I couldn’t just make up some Titans emergency. That’s a lie she could fact check.” 

“Right. So,” Kon sounded more confused than ever, “do you like me?” 

“No!” Tim glared, “I like Stephanie.” 

“Oh,” Kon said, thoughtful. Tim’s gaze dropped to the ground, ashamed. Kon thought a little harder and then awkwardly asked, “Isn’t she dating your sister?” 

“Yeah,” Tim said. “She is. They’re great together and I’m happy for them,” Tim seemed to deflate, “in theory.” He shook himself out of it, “To be clear, I’ve had a crush on Steph for years. Like, basically since we met. And she’s bi, so it could happen. I mean, it could’ve. They’ve only been dating a month.” 

Kon held up his hands, “Hey, I get it. You can’t control who you like.” 

“Right,” Tim said, hoping that agreeing would elevate some of the crushing guilt. It still felt suffocating. Especially when he pictured Stephanie, opening the envelope, reading the first line, eyes going wide—

“What’s up with the letters?” Kon asked, looking at the one in Tim’s hand. “Did you send one to Stephanie?” 

“I didn’t send them at all,” Tim said, frustrated. “Damian did.” 

“But you wrote them,” Kon said, not a question. Tim briefly entertained the idea of convincing everyone Damian had written them as well, but he was forced to dismiss it. The letters were in his handwriting, which Damian might’ve faked, but they contained too many references to specific memories that he’d have no way of knowing. 

“Why?” Kon asked, when Tim went quiet for too long. Tim braced himself. He’d already told him a huge embarrassing secret he had. What was one more?

“I’m a little obsessive. I had a therapist once recommend this letter writing exercise as a coping mechanism. When I have a crush on someone, I write them a letter that I won’t actually send, and then I can move on with my life.” 

“So me and Steph…” 

And others, Tim thought to himself, throat going dry. Oh God. There were four others. 

“And now Steph knows that you…” 

Tim smoothed out his button up shirt. He still felt disheveled. 

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Cass is on a mission, off the grid, for a while. I have time to think of something to tell Steph. Maybe she’ll think the letter is old.” 

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t possible. He’d written about her and Cass. 

“Fuck,” Tim said, placing his hands over his eyes. 

“I’m sure she’ll understand once you explain what happened.” 

“They’ll think I’m some gross incel who’s only Steph’s friend because he’s in love with her.” 

“In the letter you said you’re in love with her?” 

Tim began to pace. 

“Again, I never thought she’d read it. She’s going to hate me. And Cass will never talk to me again. Or she’ll feel guilty, and that’s worse. I just need to convince them both that I don’t have feelings for Steph anymore.” 

“What if you told her you had feelings for me?” 

Tim stopped short. 

The coach’s whistle blew and the sounds of kicking stopped, replaced by idle chat and laughter. 

Tim was looking at him like he just asked what if you live-streamed from the Batcave? 

“It could work,” Kon said, defensively. “She just saw us kiss. The best lies are based on the truth. Tell her the shit that went down with Damian, but, um, say when I got my letter, I confessed my feelings for you and then bam! We started dating. They’ll think you’ve moved on and Cass won’t feel guilty. Steph won’t think you’re just going to wait around for her to date you. It’s perfect.” 

“It’s insane,” Tim said, bluntly. “We could never pull off a lie like that.” 

“We lie all the time.” 

“Not to the people we know,” Tim argued. “And besides, who would believe we’re dating?” 

Kon’s expression darkened, but Tim pressed on, 

“No. I should go brainstorm what I’m going to say.” 

“Yeah. You do that,” Kon said, flatly, and Tim felt a flash of hurt. How was Kon the one upset here? Tim had his dirty laundry aired out, with some potentially family shattering consequences. He was mad Tim didn’t want to do his complicated, half-thought out idea? This was why Tim always made the plans for the Titans alone.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tim said, and Kon just nodded. 

# 

Tim still had Kon’s letter in his hand. As soon as he left, he ripped it out of the envelope and started reading. He wrote this when he was like 13 which was apparently the year he learned about cringeworthy metaphors. Every word filled him with dread, as half of him focused on the words and half of him imagined Kon’s reaction when he read this thinking 21 year old Tim sincerely sent it to him.  

Dear Kon-el, 

I wonder if you know what you do to me. You must at least suspect. When you look at me, I feel like I’m standing in a spotlight. When you talk to me, I feel like I’m jumping off a cliff into a bright blue ocean. If you kissed me, what would I feel? I can only imagine. 

You’re beautiful, but everyone knows you’re beautiful. Do they know how intelligent you are? I watch the Metropolis news religiously since we met. Sometimes I pull up street footage. I see how smart you are. Not just smart, thoughtful. The best part is, you’re not trying to get credit for it. You’re just being yourself. Dick once told me to be myself but I’m worried that myself is too much. You never make me feel like I’m too much. When I say something awkward, you just smile or kindly brush past it. Once you laughed, not at me, but with me, like I told a joke. If talking to you is jumping off a cliff, making you laugh is jumping off a cliff and finding out I can fly. And you always say hi to me. And when we’re with Bart and Cassie, you always include me. I’ve never met someone so kind. And it’s not some act you put on, it’s who you are. 

Maybe I’ve liked you since the moment we met. You were wearing your Superboy shirt and I remember thinking, how does he maintain a secret identity? How could anyone look at him and think he’s ordinary? He shines. You said you were excited to meet me. We shook hands but I wanted to hug you, which was so weird. I never hug people. 

The moment I knew I liked you was my 13th birthday party. Dick invited you, but I asked him to. Well, I practically begged him. He invited Bart and Cassie, too, but when I got dressed I was only thinking about you. What would you think of this shirt? Would you think it was stupid if I styled my hair? Would it be worse if you didn’t notice at all? 

We played Truth or Dare and Bart dared you to kiss Cassie. That was the moment I knew I liked you. I swear I wanted to punch Bart. I wanted to use my next turn to dare you to pick me up and fly us somewhere we could be alone and I could make you laugh and you would say you liked my shirt and my hair looked different but nice. 

You’re not completely perfect. Don’t get me wrong, you’re nearly almost perfect. But there’s one major flaw. You don’t take anything seriously. I think it’s because everyone you meet likes you. That is not normal. You don’t even realize how lucky you are. And you don’t take anything seriously because you believe everything will work itself out. Someone will help you or forgive you or solve it for you because why wouldn’t they? You’re the kind of person people dedicate their lives to. So you joke around and have fun and you never stress about anything or anyone. You’re immature. Maybe that means nothing really matters to you. I don’t think your kiss with Cassie mattered to you or her. It would’ve mattered to me. 

Sincerely, 

  Tim

# 

Tim walked into the manor, a man on a mission. In the car, he tried to think of the right thing to say to Steph, but after a few minutes, one pesky, horrible thought wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Damian. 

He dropped his backpack onto the nearest table and took the stairs two at a time. He was louder than he usually was, but he didn’t care. Let Damian know he was coming. 

He slowly opened Damian’s bedroom door, only to find him perched on the edge of his bed, still in his Gotham Academy uniform, with a devious smirk. 

“Hello, Drake.” 

Tim spent the whole drive home thinking of something to say that would hit Damian hard. He tried his best, but it seemed that nothing could be anywhere near as devastating as the classic: 

“I’m going to tell Dick.” 

Damian didn’t seem worried in the slightest. In fact, his expression twisted into a mocking pity. 

“Oh, but Drake, I’m trying to help you. You must’ve spent a long time writing those letters. Something like that shouldn’t be a secret. Isn’t that right?” 

“This is completely different,” Tim seethed, “and you didn’t just hurt me. This was a cruel thing to do to Stephanie and Cass.” 

“Cruel?” Damian raised one eyebrow, looking amused, “Please. I’m sure this will give them a good laugh.” 

Tim liked strategy. He liked playing the long game and making subtle moves until his opponent was forced into a corner. But sometimes, you had to tackle a snot-nose twelve year old to the ground. 

Tim’s attack surprised him enough to get him to the floor, but Damian quickly recovered. He kneed Tim hard and rolled away but Tim grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Damian couldn’t free himself but he threw them both against the desk. Tim hit his shoulder hard. The textbooks and the lamp rattled. Damian slipped away and now they sparred face to face. 

By the time Dick got there, Damian’s pillows and sheets were scattered around the room, his lamp was broken, and he had Tim pinned against the wall with the pointed edge of a textbook against his throat. 

“Hey, guys. What’s going on?” Dick asked, taking in the scene. Tim and Damian glared at each other, both breathing heavy. 

“Go on,” Damian said just loud enough for Tim to hear, “Tattle. That’s what you do best.” 

Tim put both hands on the textbook and shoved it away. Damian let him and took a step back. 

He really wanted to tell Dick. He wanted to tell Bruce. Damian would certainly be punished. Maybe benched for a few weeks, forced to apologize, grounded or worse— forced into an after-school extracurricular. Something he’d really hate, something time consuming that required no strategy. Like poetry club or school government. Actually, the thought of Damian in school government was terrifying. 

“Tim. What’s this about?” Dick asked. 

The problem is, if he told him, then he’d know about the letters. Dick would probably try to make him feel better by saying it was a healthy exercise and he’s proud of him for writing them in the first place and really, everyone probably thought they were sweet. Tim might not survive that conversation. 

And if he knew about the Stephanie/Cass thing, he’d guilt Tim into talking to them openly and honestly which Tim wanted to avoid doing for as long as possible, if ever.  Dick couldn’t understand the stakes because he was the kind of person nobody could stay mad at. Tim was the kind of person you could cut out of your life and be all the better for it. 

“Damian stole my favorite sweater,” Tim said. 

“It looks better on me,” Damian said, instantly adapting to the lie. 

Dick furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t buy it. Tim could admit it wasn’t his best work, but it was the best he could do after a really, really bad day. The real question was, would Dick press the issue? He stepped into the room and picked up the lamp, which was dented beyond repair. 

“If you have to fight, do it in the cave.” 

“Of course. This will not happen again,” Damian said, forever sucking up. 

“As long as you stay away from my stuff,” Tim said. 

“Of course,” Damian repeated, words laced with innocence. At least Tim got a few good hits in. And on the plus side, he could threaten to tell Dick about this for a while as a decent piece of blackmail. Little victories. 

# 

Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and Damian were finishing up at the dinner table. Tim stepped into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. That’s when Stephanie confronted him. 

“You have five seconds to start explaining.” 

Tim set down the coffee pot. 

It was one thing to rehearse his lie alone in his room, and an entirely different thing to say it to her face. Not including family, Stephanie was the only friend he had. 

“I made a stupid mistake. I got really drunk and thought it would be funny to write a fake love letter.” 

Stephanie just stared at him. 

Icy tendrils of regret started crawling up Tim’s arms. 

“I. . .” 

Stephanie didn’t look convinced. She looked at him like she didn’t recognize him at all. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Her expression shifted. 

“Tim, tell me the truth. Something’s going on. First, you send me an insane letter.” 

He knew she’d read it, but it still filled him with panic to hear her talk about it. Insane. That’s what she thought. He was insane. 

“Then, all of a sudden, you’re kissing Superboy? I didn’t even know you liked him. And you were holding an envelope with his name on it.” 

He improvised. 

“This is what happened. I got drunk, and I thought it would be a funny prank to write fake love letters. I sobered up and realized it was stupid. Damian wanted to get revenge on me, long story, and sent them without me knowing. But after Kon read his, he decided to ask me out. And now we’re dating.” 

Steph stared at him for a moment. Processing. Then she narrowed her eyes. 

“How is that a prank?” she asked.  

“What?” 

“How is that letter supposed to be a prank?” 

“I was just being stupid.” 

“You’re not that stupid.” 

“I was really drunk. I guess I thought it was so insane it was funny.” 

She looked unconvinced, but a little disgusted, so maybe she was starting to believe the lie. Tim needed to regroup. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. Then he glanced back at the kitchen door, as if making sure no one was about to come through it. “I’ll apologize better later. If B asks, can I tell him we’re hanging out tonight? I need to go to see Kon.” 

“Tim. You’re acting crazy.” 

“I know,” he said, finally honest. It was a relief to speak frankly. He wished he could tell her the truth. If anyone would know what to do, it was her. 

“Look, I really regret writing that letter. I wish you never saw it.” 

She looked at him and he worried that he’d accidentally said too much. She knew him better than anyone. He wrote her letter recently, he still remembered how it started. 

I love you and I don’t know how to stop.  

“I need to go,” he said, trying to get ahold of himself, “You’ll cover?” 

She studied him for another moment and then said, “Fine. Breakfast tomorrow? You have way more explaining to do.” 

“Sounds good,” he said, while already thinking of possible excuses he could text her. 

#

Tim spent most nights in Wayne Manor, but Bruce insisted he get a dorm room at Gotham University. This was supposedly just in case he needed a place to sleep after a late night study session, but Bruce once let it slip he wanted Tim to have the traditional college experience. Right. Not having a dorm, that’s what was holding him back. 

At least it gave Tim and Kon a place to talk where no one who mattered was likely to notice. 

Tim explained his fight with Damian and conversation Steph. He grew worried that Kon might’ve changed his mind. Maybe he should’ve double checked before he green lit the plan that would drastically affect both of their lives. 

But Kon didn’t look mad. He looked smug. 

“So, you admit I had a good idea?” 

Tim folded his arms. 

“Yes. You don’t have to look so conceited. You have good ideas all the time.” 

Kon looked delighted. “Can I record you saying that?” 

“Shut up,” Tim said. “I’ve said it before.” 

He made a face like Tim was full of shit, and Tim grew uncomfortable. Maybe he was a harsh on the Titans, but he had good reason to be. It pushed everyone to be better. Though he made a mental note to give a few compliments every once in a while. 

“Anyway,” Tim continued, “we’ll pretend to date for a few weeks, at least until we know how Cass reacts when she hears about the letter.” 

“It’s a perfect plan,” Kon said, with residual smugness.

“So, what do you want?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, obviously this whole plan helps me. What do you get out of it?” 

“Oh. Well, you already owe me a favor,” at Tim’s look he clarified, “you said so before you kissed me.” 

“I could owe you a second favor,” Tim suggested, then felt his cheeks heat as he realized it almost sounded like he was offering to kiss him again. He told himself to keep eye contact but he couldn’t fight the impulse to drop his gaze to his mouth. It was an interesting mouth. One corner started to pull up in a smile and Tim forced himself to look back at his eyes. 

“One favor is all I need,” he said. “Actually, this fake relationship would help me, too. You know I don’t really date.” 

Tim was well aware. He went on lots of dates but rarely with the same person twice. With one notable exception. 

“And you know how Cassie and I are always on and off again?” 

Cassie was the notable exception, although Tim would hardly call whatever they did dating. It was more like an unending cycle of being friends, hooking up, petty fighting over and over again until, Tim assumed, it eventually accumulated in either ignoring each other forever or getting married. 

“I know we’re not good together. But, I mean, you get how these things happen.” 

Tim didn’t get it, but if Kon thought he did that was fine by him. He nodded. 

“I want to be friends, but it’s complicated. Old habits or whatever. It’s just— if she thought I was dating someone, then we would have a clean break. By the time you and I break up, she’ll probably have a boyfriend of her own.” 

“Great. We can tell them at tomorrow’s meeting. You really think they’ll believe it?” 

“Dude,” Kon sounded annoyed, “Stephanie did. I know you think it’s weird for our brilliant leader to settle for the stupidest person on the team but I think—“ 

“What?” Tim cut him off, shocked. “That’s not what I meant. You said it yourself— you don’t date. So why would you date me?” 

“Maybe I like you.” 

Tim scoffed, “But you could date anyone.” 

“Maybe I want you.” 

There was a fierceness in Kon’s expression that made Tim breathless. It was suddenly overwhelming, to be alone together in this sparsely furnished room, with one bed between them. To have Kon’s complete attention, to hear him say I want you. He didn’t have feelings for Kon, but maybe, with the intensity of the moment, he got how these things happen after all. He cleared his throat. 

“Do you think Cassie will be mad?” 

“No. Do you think Bruce will forbid us from dating?” 

“Well, I’m 21 years old, so no.” 

Kon pulled a face, “I’m telling you now, if Batman gives me the shovel talk, I’m calling this off.” 

“Actually,” Tim went to his school provided desk and pulled out a composition notebook, “We should set some rules so we’re both on the same page.” 

“I was joking about the shovel talk.” 

“But it’s a valid point. We both have boundaries.” Tim grabbed a pen and clicked it, “Let’s start with the basics. Are you alright with holding hands?” 

“Tim.” 

“This is important,” Tim said, serious. “A fake relationship may require some fake PDA, and we shouldn’t assume anything. Do you approve hand holding?” 

“Do you have sweaty hands?” 

Tim gave him an unamused look. Kon rolled his eyes. 

“Fine. Yes. Do you approve?” 

“No, you have sweaty hands,” Tim said dryly and Kon laughed. Tim glanced at him with a small smile, but when Kon looked back, he ducked his head down toward the notebook. 

“So hand holding is fine. What about kissing?” 

“Whatever,” Kon said. 

“It shouldn’t be whatever,” Tim said, serious again. “Yes or no. For any reason.” 

“Yes,” he said. Tim clicked his pen. Then he clicked it again. 

“On the mouth?” 

Kon raised his eyebrows, “Where were you thinking?” 

“Mouth. And flirting,” Tim blurted, and jotted down a note. “Of course. We should flirt.” 

“Will we go on dates?” 

“We should. Are you free Friday nights?” 

“I’m always free,” Kon said, and suddenly Tim remembered the way his schedule was usually filled. Tim lowered the pen. 

“It might be better if we only tell our friends. If the press found out Conner Kent was dating Tim Drake, it would make your life complicated.” 

“I don’t care,” Kon shrugged. 

“That’s because you haven’t dealt with paparazzi before,” Tim said. “It would change everything. And if the press caught you cheating on me, it would be a huge headache—“ 

“Whoa,” Kon frowned. “I’m not going to cheat on you.” 

“Oh. I just assumed you would still—“ 

“You shouldn’t assume anything,” Kon said, using his own words against him. 

“You’re right.” 

“But I mean, if you want to keep hooking up with whoever—“ 

“That won’t be an issue,” Tim said. Kon was hit with realization. 

“Right. You’re not over Stephanie.” 

Tim looked upset, so Kon kept talking. 

“Uh, anyway, I’m good with everyone knowing about Conner and Tim. As long as we don’t have to make like a press release about it.” 

Tim wrote down no press releases. 

“What about pet names?” Kon asked. 

Tim tapped the pen against his chin.

“I don’t think so.” 

“But you don’t know?” He asked, curious. Tim made his mouth into a straight line. 

“I assume I won’t like them.” 

“I bet I could find one you like.” 

“You’re welcome to try,” Tim said, very business-like. Kon grinned. 

“You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed, baby-cakes.” 

“I veto baby-cakes.” 

# 

Tim canceled on breakfast with Stephanie. He said he spent the night with Kon and knew she’d be too happy for him to break-in and drag him to brunch. 

Kon texted him letting him know he told his parents. They were thrilled but adamant that Tim come for dinner. So that was another thing to worry about. 

That night, Tim patrolled Gotham as Red Robin. He chased after a car jacker, but his mind wandered. He knew logically he should tell Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, but he wasn’t sure what approach he should take. If he did it over dinner, Damian would probably be there. But he didn’t really want to tell them one on one. Too intense. It wasn’t like this fake relationship was going to last longer than two weeks. Maybe he didn’t have to tell them at all. 

He was definitely distracted because he didn’t notice Jason until Red Hood dropped down in front of him in a narrow brick alley. Tim skidded to a stop and the car jacker disappeared into the night. 

“He’s getting away!” 

“Don’t worry. You scared him off of crime, I can tell.” 

Tim shoved him. 

“What do you want?” 

“Roy asked me to give this to you,” Jason held up a light blue envelope. Fuck. 

Tim tried to grab it but Jason stepped back and lifted his arm, keeping it just out of reach. 

“Bup, bup, bup,” Jason said when Tim made another grab. “Before you staple this back into your diary, I have to ask. What the fuck?” 

“When I was a child, my therapist made me write a letter to Roy that I would never send. Something about expressing myself.” 

“And you sent it now because you wanted to give Roy a heart attack?” 

“No. Fuck,” Tim pretended to reach for the letter, and then swept his legs. Jason jumped easily. God, Tim needed a sibling he could beat up. “Someone found my letters and sent them.” 

“Damian,” Jason nodded, like he suspected all along. “Sure. What a little shit. Just so you know, I walked into Roy’s place and he was sitting on the couch reading this and smoking a cigarette with a shaky hand. I asked him what it was, but he wouldn’t tell me, so we fought for like half an hour and I finally nabbed it.” 

“Did you read it?” Tim had been so worried about the recipients, he hadn’t yet considered the horrifying idea of other people reading them. 

“Only all of it,” Jason said with mock sympathy. 

Tim pretended to turn around, but really made another lunge for the letter. He grabbed it from Jason’s hand, but suspected that he let him. 

“Roy’s gonna be so fucking relieved,” Jason said. “I know I am. You’re not ready to be a step-father.” 

“And you are?” 

“Huh,” Jason said, narrowing his eyes. “Big talk from someone who will never ever stop daydreaming of Roy Harper.” 

Fuck. Tim was not looking forward to re-reading the letter he wrote when he was 14. His crush on Roy was actually the easiest to get over. Back then, he and Dick were kinda friends, and nothing killed the air of mystery around someone like watching them do drunk karaoke with his brother.  

“Any other letters I should know about?” 

Tim weighed his options. He hadn’t actually planned on telling Jason, but hey, he was here. 

“I wrote one to Superboy. Now we’re dating.” 

“No shit,” he said, surprised, and Tim thought maybe the slightest bit impressed.  “I had ten to one you would die alone.” And there was the punchline. 

“Very funny. I haven’t told people yet so don’t bring it up.” 

“Yeah, because all I do is gossip. Oh, if Dick tries to give you a hard time, ask him if he ever had a teammate he didn’t date.” 

# 

Did you tell Bruce yet? 

Tim stared at the text message on his phone. 

He tapped into the text-box. The cursor blinked. 

He left iMessage, then told himself to get a grip and went back. Text-box. Cursor. Swipe away. 

The whole point of the plan was for everyone to believe Tim had feelings for Kon. And it wasn’t like this would shock his family. They were detectives. They’d never outright talked about it, but by now everyone had to know that Tim was bi. 

It just wasn’t the kind of thing Tim talked about with them. If he was actually dating someone, would he even tell them? Steph and Cass didn’t tell them, everyone just figured it out and accepted it. Well, Tim knew the whole time because Steph kept him extremely up-to-date on the relationship since the moment she asked, Do you think Cass was flirting with me? 

Tim saw a flash of movement outside his window. 

Superboy was floating outside, tapping lightly on the glass. 

Tim rushed to the window and pushed it open. 

“Are you crazy?”

“You didn’t text me back.” 

“Get inside!” 

Kon flew in and landed lightly on his feet. 

“I thought maybe it went badly with Bruce.” 

That made Tim pause before he could begin a no-metas-in-gotham-especially-batmans-house lecture. He suited up and flew all the way here, risking Bruce’s anger, just because he wanted to know he was alright. Tim felt a warmth spread in his chest, even though logically he knew Kon totally overreacted to being left on read for ten minutes. Whatever. It was nice. 

“I haven’t told him yet.” 

“Do you think it’s going to go badly?” 

“No,” Tim said, though he sounded unsure even to himself. He shook his head slightly, “No. It’s just an awkward thing to bring up.” 

“Did you tell him about the last person you dated?” 

Tim glanced away. 

“I’ve never dated anyone.” 

Tim looked back. Kon wasn’t fast enough to hide his expression. 

“You’re surprised?” 

“Well, I mean, yeah. You just seem like the kind of person who would date.” 

Tim didn’t know what to make of that. So he flatly said, “Hmm,” and moved past it. He could analyze the comment to death later. 

“Last night I told Jason.” 

“How’d he react?” 

“He was a jerk about it, but that’s how he is. Actually, I think he was being nicer than usual because he felt bad for reading my letter to Roy.” 

“Roy Harper?” 

Tim forgot he didn’t know about that. 

“Yeah.” 

“So it wasn’t just me and Steph?” 

“No,” Tim reluctantly said, “There are actually six letters.” 

Kon sat down on Tim’s bed. Tim looked at the shadows he created on the white comforter, the dent he made in the mattress. His gaze got caught on his hands, palms down against the bed. He wasn’t wearing his gloves. The long lines of his fingers burrowed into the sheets. 

Kon was saying something. 

“— three but who else?” 

Tim blinked. 

“It doesn’t matter. And it’s embarrassing.” 

“Bart or Cassie?” 

Interesting. He almost sounded worried. Maybe he was, about the team-shattering drama that might create. Or maybe deep down, he had real feelings for Cassie after all. 

“No,” Tim said, calm and collected. Kon nodded. Then he looked Tim up and down. 

“I bet I could guess.” 

Tim folded his arms. “I don’t like this game.” 

“Wonder Woman.” 

“Shut up,” Tim said, cheeks turning red. Kon grinned and pointed at him. 

“You have to admit when I guess one.” 

“You can hear my heartbeat. But fine,” Tim said. “Yes. Wonder Woman was my first crush. She’s everyone’s first crush. Shut up.” 

Kon looked up, thinking, then his gaze dropped to Tim. 

“Aquaman.” 

Tim scoffed, “No.” 

“Catwoman.” 

“No,” Tim said disgusted, “She’s basically dating Bruce. The other two are our age. One of them you won’t be able to guess.” 

“Someone from your school.” 

“I gave you that one.” 

“I bet I can guess what they were like. A popular jock who never gave you the time of day.” 

Tim looked unimpressed. 

“Actually, he was a huge nerd. He sat next to me in pre-calc.” 

“Oh, pre-calc,” Kon made a face, “The sexiest subject.” 

“Shut up,” Tim said again, but this time was he was smiling. 

“Did you make out on top of your graphing calculator?” 

“I mean it,” said Tim, as he grabbed a pillow for a weapon and approached him. 

“Did you measure him with your protractor?” 

Tim whacked him in the face, but Kon raised his arm as a shield last minute. Tim whacked him again, harder. This time, he grabbed the pillow and tried to pull it away. Tim tightened his grip.  

“The time we spent in math class was magical, and I won’t let you make fun of it.” 

“Fine, we can move past the nerd,” Kon pulled again, but it just brought Tim closer to him until he was standing between his legs. 

“I still have one more to guess,” Kon said, looking up at him. Tim wasn’t used to seeing him from this angle, looking down. It made Kon’s eyes look wider than normal. Even still, his gaze was pulled to that interesting mouth. 

“I’ll give you one chance.” 

“That’s all I need,” Kon said, leaning closer. He studied Tim, up and down, and finally said, “Starfire.” 

Tim leaned even closer and smirked. 

“Not even close.” 

Dick opened the bedroom door.  

Tim dropped the pillow like it was on fire and jumped back. Kon kept the pillow on his lap and willed his heart rate to slow down. Dick looked between them with an odd expression. 

“Hey, Superboy.” 

“Hey.” 

“What do you need?” Tim asked, sounding casual even though he felt like Dick just walked in on him shaking hands with the Riddler. Which was ridiculous. Dick surprised him, that was all. He normally knocked. 

“I noticed Kon fly in. I thought there might be an emergency.” 

“No emergency,” Kon said lightly. “We’re just hanging out.” 

Dick’s eyes flicked to Tim, who folded his arms.

“He won’t do it again,” said Tim.

“Alfred invited him to stay for dinner.” 

“Cool,” Kon said the same time Tim said, “He can’t.” 

Kon, surprised, and Tim, annoyed, turned to look at each other. They started a conversation with their expressions, Tim saying you should go and Kon saying yes but Alfred’s cooking though. Dick looked between them and developed a theory. 

“Tim, you’re being rude,” said Dick, and they both turned their attention to him. “Dinner’s at 6.” 

Kon had the blessing of Alfred’s cooking a handful of times, usually at one of the Wayne family birthday parties, but he had never eaten in the Wayne Manor before. Tim led him down the stairs and he realized he’d never really gotten a good look at the place either. He craned his neck to see the massive, domed, stained glass ceiling of the entryway. There were light fixtures on the walls with flickering flame. They walked down a long hallway which opened up into a grand Dining Room. There were oil paintings on the walls, and Kon knew nothing about art but they looked expensive. The table was long, with a wine red tablecloth, and had several candelabras. Dick, Bruce, and Damian were already seated at one end, Bruce at the head. Kon and Tim took the empty seats across from each other, Tim next to Dick. Kon glanced over at Damian. He’d only been around the kid a few times. He shot him a small smile. 

Damian sneered and dramatically unfurled his cloth napkin, before letting it fall gracefully onto his lap. Kon glanced toward Tim for backup, but he was looking at Bruce. 

“You didn’t invite Bart or Cassie,” Bruce said, slowly unrolling his napkin. He was looking at Tim, and the cool, calculated look made Kon want to hide under the table. Instead, he spoke up without thinking. 

“He didn’t invite me, either,” Kon said. 

Bruce’s attention snapped to him, as did Dick and Damian’s. He wanted to excuse himself and fly home but instead he shoved his foot further into mouth. 

“I mean, I didn’t tell Tim I was coming over. I just really wanted to see him. Uh, sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Tim took a deep breath and Damian smirked. 

“Hm,” Bruce hummed. 

“I think it’s great,” Dick said, pulling the conversation onto a lighter note, “I didn’t realize you two were so close.” 

“Oh, yeah, we’re close.” Kon said. He shot a panicked look to Tim. “Uh, but not that close,” he hastily added. 

Dick smiled, his eyes bright with amusement. Bruce stared. 

The kitchen doors swung open. Alfred pushed in a cart with dinner, wheels rolling against the hard floor. Tim was grateful for the distraction and hoped maybe, just maybe, the rest of dinner would pass with no more awkwardness. Alfred began passing out plates. 

“How are your classes?” Bruce asked Tim. 

“Fine,” he said, as usual. 

“My progress report goes home this Friday, Father,” Damian said, “I’m sure I’ll receive the highest marks.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Bruce said, cutting into his perfectly seasoned salmon. 

“And don’t forget, you’re going to Nolan Montgomery’s birthday party on Saturday,” Dick said. 

“Perhaps,” Damian said, stabbing a piece of his tofu with his fork. 

“That’s how you make friends,” Tim pointed out. Damian glared. 

“Let’s talk about your friends. Do you often sneak the clone into the manor?” 

“Damian,” Dick chastised. 

Kon gave Damian the side eye with his mouth full of fancy mashed potatoes that were somehow crispy on top. He couldn’t be mad while eating something this good. Tim looked pissed, though. 

“Don’t call him that.” 

“Why shouldn’t I? He is a clone.” 

“Then I’ll call you spoiled brat.” 

“And you, coward.”  

“Damian, enough.” Bruce said. That shut him up. Alfred took the seat next to Tim. There was only the sound of utensils scraping against plates. 

“This dinner is delicious,” Kon said, breaking the silence as he reached for his third cheesy bread roll. 

“Thank you, Mr. Kent,” Alfred said with a smile. Kon glanced at Tim for approval. He gave him a subtle nod. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he expected it to be. Dick asked Kon about the Kent farm, Damian tried not to look too interested in the animals, and it wasn’t bad at all. 

#

Dick once gave Tim a piece of unsolicited advice. 

“Tim,” he said, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, “I know how hard you work leading the Titans. And I know this sounds counterintuitive but if you loosen up and have a little fun, you’ll see improvements.” 

And because Dick had led his Titans team to greatness, Tim took his advice. 

He rented out the Gotham bowling alley for a night and invited the team to play a few games. When Cassie asked if it was mandatory he said it was. Dick was a great leader, but obviously he didn’t understand Tim’s team because a little fun didn’t improve anything. Cassie fell asleep after the eighth round, Bart was annoyed that Tim insisted on playing with no powers, and Kon released his bowling ball too early and it went flying behind him, smashing into the screen above the snack bar. 

“I knew you were using your powers,” Bart started. 

“That wasn’t super-strength,” Kon insisted. Their fighting woke up Cassie, who took Bart’s side, and Tim called it a night. The three lightly protested, but Tim said he had to go pay for the damages.  

That was the last time Tim had seen any of them outside of a Titans activity. Until a few days ago, when Kon showed up at his university. 

Tim admired everyone on his team for different reasons, but despite how closely they worked, he wouldn’t call them friends. But it was fine. He didn’t need friends, he needed Titans. Sometimes it hurt when he noticed the friendship between the three of them, but he told himself it was better this way. Someone got to goof-off at the bowling alley, as long as someone wrote the check. 

He decided to tell Bart and Cassie after the debriefing, because he figured once they heard the news they would be too preoccupied to focus on the case. Tim cut the projector and cleared his throat. 

Bart was draped over the leather chair, legs dangling from the arm rest and swinging. Cassie and Kon were on the couch, Kon’s arms resting on the back. 

“Kon and I have some news,” Tim said. He gave Kon a pointed look. Kon jumped up and went to his side. Cassie and Bart both watched him, curiously. 

“Before I say what it is,” Tim continued, “I want you both to know that this won’t affect the team at all. Obviously the Titans are my first priority. If you have any concerns don’t hesitate to tell me. I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable. I know it may seem like all this happened very suddenly, but I’ve actually thought it through—“ 

“Just tell them.” Kon cut him off. 

Bart raised his eyebrows. No one cut Tim off mid-monologue. Cassie glanced between the two, starting to grow suspicious. 

Tim, his shoulders locked and tensed, looked at Kon. Kon looked back at him, with an encouraging smile. Tim took a deep breath and centered himself. 

“We’re dating,” Tim said. 

“Holy shit,” Cassie said, suspicions confirmed. She covered her mouth with her hand, “I mean— I just mean— wow.” 

Bart smiled, but there was a look in his eyes asking What the fuck. 

Tim grabbed Kon’s hand, and squeezed tightly. Kon squeezed back, and somehow  that helped. Tim felt the tension drain from his shoulders and his heart rate return to normal. He cleared his throat again. 

“Yes,” Tim said, “So. Any questions?” 

Cassie and Bart both raised their hands. Tim nodded at Bart. 

“Does anyone else think it’s unfair that I’m the only person here who hasn’t been seduced by Superboy? Honestly, I feel excluded.” 

Cassie rolled her eyes and Kon tried to hide his smile. Tim considered Bart seriously, then nodded. 

“He’ll buy you dinner,” Tim said. Bart sat up eagerly. 

“Hey,” Kon said, “we’re not all millionaires.” 

Tim smirked. 

“Then I’ll buy him dinner.” 

Kon’s eyes brightened at the challenge. 

“Boys, please,” Bart grinned, “Everyone can buy me dinner.” 

“You’re not getting an appetizer out of me,” Cassie said. Then she pointedly raised her hand. Tim nodded at her. 

“When did this whole thing start?” 

“Three days ago,” Tim said. 

“How?” She asked. 

“Well, I wrote him a letter confessing my feelings and he asked me out.” 

Bart and Cassie shared a look. 

“That must’ve been some letter,” she said. 

Tim paused. 

“Yes. I guess. But of course, I burned it afterwards—“ 

“What?” Kon interrupted, upset.  

“Well,” Tim stammered, “I’ll— I can write another.” 

“I can’t believe you burned it,” Kon said. Tim looked at him, unsure if he was acting like he cared about this solely for Bart and Cassie’s benefit. 

“I have one more question,” Cassie said, “But Tim, could we talk in private?” 

Tim let go of his hand. 

“Sure,” Tim said and followed her toward the door. Kon watched them go. 

“Don’t listen, idiot,” she called over her shoulder. 

“When do I ever listen to you?” Kon joked. It fell flat. Cassie and Tim stepped into the hallway and the door closed behind them. Kon was, of course, planning to listen— until Bart spoke up. 

“I can’t believe it.” 

His tone was deadly serious. Kon laughed, unsure, but Bart wasn’t smiling. 

“You’re my best friend,” Bart said. “But I really care about Tim, too, you know.” 

“Dude, yeah,” Kon said, really unsure where this was going and getting worried Bart knew they were faking. How would he know? They held hands. Should they have kissed? It’s been five minutes. There was no way Bart could know. Unless he really did think there was no way Tim would settle for him. 

“So you shouldn’t mess with him about something like this,” Bart said. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You don’t date. And that’s fine, I mean, you and Cassie were fine. But it’s obvious that Tim really likes you.” 

“I know. I really like him.” 

“Do you?” 

Kon felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. On one hand, Bart was his best friend. He knew Kon didn’t have feelings for Tim, and he would have no reason to think that could’ve changed so quickly. On the other, Bart was his best friend, and he really thought he would do something careless and deceitful that might threaten the entire team. And for what? A bit of fun? To mess with Tim? Kon squared his shoulders. 

“I’m dating Tim because I like him.” 

“You complain about him all the time.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Last week you called him high-maintenance.” 

Kon folded his arms. 

“And I stand by that.” 

Bart gave him a look, “So what is this really about?” 

“I just like him. Why can’t you believe that? He’s hot. He’s funny. Yeah, he’s high-maintenance, but that’s because he cares about every little detail. It’s incredible. He always has an opinion that he’s willing to defend and he doesn’t care if people hate him for it. And fuck you, I don’t complain about him all the time. I’ve always thought he’s a great leader. No one is smarter than him. No one gets as passionate. Being alone with him is like, addicting. I guess I never dated because with other people I was always thinking about what I was missing out on, but when I’m alone with Tim, I just feel like, like, happy to be there.” 

The hallway door opened, revealing Tim and Cassie, back already. 

Kon glanced from them, who looked surprised, to Bart, who seemed satisfied by his rant, and back to them. 

“You guys heard that?” 

“Oh yeah,” Cassie said, “So, that’s why we never dated? You were thinking about other people?” 

Kon flushed. 

“You were thinking about other people, too. Remember Paris?” 

“Remember Washington?” She shot back. 

“That was your idea.” 

“Hey, I bought the costume, you suggested it.” 

“As much as I love hearing about your sex lives, you jerks are going to do this in front of Tim?” Bart said. 

“What was the costume?” Tim asked, giving Cassie the side eye. 

“It was a one time thing,” Kon said. 

“Please don’t tell us,” Bart said. 

“Cheerleader,” said Cassie. Tim filed that away. Bart sighed and shook his head. 

“One day I’m gonna date someone and never shut up about it. Then you’ll be sorry. You’ll all be sorry.” 

#

Kon and Tim debriefed afterwards in Tim’s bedroom. They took the zetas, though Kon insisted he would fly home after. He was a little claustrophobic. He’d spent enough time in a glass cylinder. 

Tim sat on his bed and Kon took his desk chair. 

“That was some good acting. I mean, the things you said to Bart.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Kon said. “Yeah.” 

It was awkward. Tim didn’t mean to make it awkward. Why wasn’t Kon looking him in the eye? 

“It was quick thinking,” Tim said and Kon finally looked at him and oh god this was why he didn’t give out a lot of compliments because it made Kon smile at him like that. 

“Thanks,” Kon said. 

“Yeah,” Tim said and then sat up straighter. “I think they bought it. I’m sure Steph will try to talk to me soon. We should give her a show, so she’ll be convinced we’re dating before she talks to Cass.” 

“Sure,” Kon shrugged. Then, “What did Cassie say to you?” 

Tim paused. 

“Oh come on,” Kon continued, “It’s not fair that you could hear my conversation but I didn’t get to hear yours.” 

“Interesting. I’m going to use that argument in the future, Superboy.” 

“Whatever. Just tell me. Please.” 

Tim smiled, slyly. 

“First, she asked if I was mad at her.” 

“What? Why?” 

“I guess she assumed I’ve liked you for a while,” Tim said. “I told her I didn’t care about your past. It is what it is. And then she said she used to like you but she hasn’t in years and she should’ve guessed you liked me because you made fun of me so much.” 

Kon stood up. 

“What the hell. I don’t make fun of you.” 

Tim stared at him. 

“Sometimes I don’t agree with all of your decisions.” 

Tim stared. 

“What did she say I do?” 

“She said you do an impression of me.” 

“What? Okay, sometimes I joke around, like when you make us do the same exercise a hundred times— but Bart’s the one who does the Tim Voice. And my jokes are tasteful. And—“ 

He noticed Tim holding back a laugh. Kon looked at him suspiciously. 

“She didn’t say that, did she?” 

“No,” Tim admitted, “I was just curious. It’s okay. I know I can be a hardass.” 

“And a smartass.” 

“Some might say jackass,” Tim said. Kon chuckled. 

There was a knock on the door. 

Tim and Kon shared a look. Tim suspected it was Dick. Alfred would’ve knocked softer. Damian would’ve kicked in the door. Bruce would’ve opened the door and then knocked. 

For a moment, Tim considered what he’d do if he actually had his boyfriend in his room. Make him hide under the bed? That was juvenile. He decided instead to have fun with it. He walked over to Kon, giving him time to pull away, and raised his hands to his hair. He gave him a questioning look. Kon nodded. Tim ran his hands through his hair, to make it look like they’d been up to something. Kon started unbuttoning his flannel and Tim stifled a laugh. 

Kon’s hair was softer than he thought it’d be. Not tangled at all. It wasn’t standing as straight up as he wanted it to. He made a fist near the roots and pulled. Kon’s hands froze and his eyes snapped to Tim’s. Tim didn’t notice before, but his pupils were dilated. It must’ve been the dim light of the room. 

There was another, louder, knock. 

Tim stepped back but Kon reached for him by the front of his t-shirt. He glanced at Tim’s hair. Tim shook his head. Kon glanced at his mouth. Tim nodded, even though he wasn’t sure he knew the question. He knew the answer. Kon met his gaze and Tim held his breath. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to happen. 

Which was of course when Dick opened the door. 

Tim turned toward him. Kon let go and stepped back. 

“Oh,” said Dick, totally fake, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” He glanced from Kon’s shirt to his hair, before finally landing on Tim. 

“Opening the door anyway defeats the purpose of knocking,” Tim said. 

“I gave you time to make yourself presentable,” Dick said. Kon ducked his head and started buttoning his shirt. 

“Do you need something?” Tim asked. 

“Yes,” Dick said. “I’m going back to Bludhaven tonight, for a few days. Do you have Titans business this weekend?”

“Nothing planned,” Tim said. 

“Perfect,” Dick smiled, “Because someone needs to take Damian to a birthday party on Saturday.” 

“I’m sure Alfred will,” Tim said, with a stiff smile. 

“Alfred’s off this weekend,” Dick said. 

“Then make Bruce do it.” 

“T-bird.” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t make Damian do anything.” 

“Can’t you?” 

“Nice try, but no. Just let him stay home.” 

Dick glanced at Kon, who was standing stiffly with an awkward expression, his shirt buttoned all the way to the top, and his hair wild. He seemed to decide it was okay to continue. 

“I don’t know if you remember, but Nolan Montgomery is the boy who’s been giving Dames a hard time.” 

Of course Tim remembered. 

“You know better than anyone that he doesn’t always make the best first impression. But he’s a great kid. Nolan’s party could be a chance for them to become friends.” 

Dick was so naive about things like this. 

“Bruce won’t force him to go,” Dick said. “But someone should. Please, Tim. You don’t have to stay. Just take him there. You can bring Kon. Right, Kon?” 

“I’d be happy to help,” Kon said. Dick smiled brightly.  

“Fine,” Tim said. Dick hugged him but Tim quickly broke away. 

“To be clear, I’ll try to make him go. Can I use sedation?” 

“No,” Dick said, without skipping a beat. 

“Then I can’t guarantee he’ll be there.” 

“That’s good enough for me.” 

#

It was Friday. Steph got the letter Tuesday. She talked to Tim that night, for like five minutes, but his flimsy explanation made zero sense. He would never write that letter as a prank, no matter how drunk. She remembered one of the middle paragraphs: 

When you told me you asked Cass out, I was heartbroken. I knew she would say yes. To know you is to say yes. But I wanted to be the one you asked. I still do. Why couldn’t I get over myself and tell you how I feel? I think I know why. Because what I really want is for you to want me. And telling you how I feel won’t make you want me. It will make you hate me. 

Tim was funny, but the letter wasn’t. It wasn’t funny at all. 

After he blew her off for breakfast and apparently started sleeping with Superboy, which was a huge deal, she gave him some space. The problem with Tim was he was so damn secretive. She had no idea he wanted Superboy. She had no idea he wanted sex, with anyone, period. And she had no idea how he went from never-been-kissed to dating the biggest player they knew. 

But tonight, she was going to find out. She’d given him enough space. Now he owed her some answers. 

She found him in his dorm room. Actually, she found them. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said when he opened the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Then she took in his appearance. Messy hair, shirtless, lips pink. 

Of course, if Steph had barged in two minutes earlier, she would’ve seen Tim pulling at his own hair until he was happy with it. Five minutes earlier, she would’ve seen Tim pulling at his own lips in the mirror. 

“I’ve been busy,” Tim said with a smirk. 

“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” Steph said, lightly freaking out. “Let me in.” 

She pushed past him and entered the tiny dorm. Tim was paying extra for a single room, but she couldn’t imagine fitting two beds in this cinderblock anyway. It was so spartan he must’ve added no decor of his own. Kon, looking like a model, sat on the unmade bed, flannel unbuttoned. 

“Hi, Steph,” he said. They’d met a few times, but briefly. 

“Hi,” she said. Tim stood beside her and let the door close. 

“I can’t believe Tim has a boyfriend.” 

“Well, he does,” Kon said. 

“Cassie’s told me a lot about you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Tim hasn’t said much though.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tim turned to her, “Is there something you want to know?” 

“Oh yeah, man. There’s a lot I want to know. But we can start with the meta in the room. Why didn’t you tell me you liked him?” 

“It didn’t come up.” 

“Oh my god.” She threw her head back, “I literally gave you a million openings. This is what I get for following Dick’s advice.” 

Tim tensed. “What advice?” 

“He said, don’t pressure him. He’ll talk to us about his love life when he’s ready. Blah, blah, blah, we all develop at different rates.” 

“Going forward, I would rather have you pressuring me than talking to Dick about my development.” 

“And now I know,” she said. She smiled and turned to Kon, still on the bed. 

“So Tim wrote you a letter, too?” 

Kon froze. 

“Uh, yeah.” He said, looking at Tim for guidance. 

“Can we just forget about the stupid letters?” Tim asked. “I thought you were my best friend. Don’t you want to give Kon the shovel talk?” 

“No,” she said. “I want to know about his letter. And my letter, actually—” 

“We can talk about this after the party,” Kon blurted. Steph and Tim turned to him. 

“Yes,” Tim backed up his story. “Sorry, Steph, we were just about to leave.” 

“You’re welcome to join us,” Kon said. Steph looked surprised and Tim looked a little crazy eyed. 

“Yeah,” Tim said because what else could he say. 

“Wow, a college party. This guy’s a good influence on you,” she said. “I’m so down.” 

“Great,” Tim said, because what else could he say. 

“Is this like a party-party?” She asked. Tim nodded.

“I’ll run home and change— text me the address?” 

“Will do,” Tim said.

“See ya,” she gave them one last grin and was out the door. 

Tim turned to Kon. 

“What the hell was that?” 

“She’s distracted right?” Kon shot back. 

“There’s no party,” Tim said like he was stupid, “What am I supposed to text her?” 

Kon scoffed and stood, “I think we’ll be able to find a college party on a Friday night, detective.” 

“So now we’re just— just going to go to a party?” Tim said, outraged, though slowly realizing the situation wasn’t as dire as he thought it was. 

“It’s a good place to convince her we’re a couple,” Kon said thoughtfully. “Dancing. Dark corners. That stuff.” 

Tim flushed. 

“I suppose.” 

Stephanie walked back to her car, her mind whirling. She had to figure out why Tim really wrote her that letter. It was obvious now that whatever the lie, Kon was apart of it. This party would be the perfect opportunity for her to do sleuthing, figure out exactly what secret they were keeping. She smiled to herself. Lying to and manipulating the people she loved. She felt like a real member of the bat family. 

# 

The frat house was packed. There was a line out the door. Half of the line was vaping and the other half talking obnoxiously loud. There was a freshman frat guy in the doorway acting as a bouncer, and as entertaining as it was to imagine him attempting to stop them, Tim slipped him a fifty. He said, “Fuck yeah,” gave Tim a one armed hug and let them into the party. 

Inside, all the lighting was in shades of blue, purple, and pink. The living room was the dance floor, with couples and clusters of friends. A frat guy scrolled through his phone attached to the aux chord. 

“Hey,” Kon said, leaning into Tim’s side so he could be heard over the music. The move blocked Tim from the weed and sweat he smelled before. He could only smell him. 

“This is our first date,” Kon said. 

Tim stepped closer, to let two people with red solo cups push past them. That was the only reason. 

“If you took me here for a first date, I’d break up with you.” 

“Yeah,” Kon chuckled, “You’d want me to take you to a crime scene we could investigate.” 

“Don’t say that,” Tim said, eyes darting around. 

“It’s just us,” Kon said, and for a moment it felt like it was. Kon always stood out in a crowd, but Tim was hit by the realization especially seeing him surrounded by his fellow students. He didn’t understand why no one was asking for his number or hitting on him or even just staring. His glasses didn’t change the way he carried himself, like he might soar into the sky any second. It was more than his appearance. He was so clearly made for bigger things than this small, crowded party. 

“Tim?” Kon sounded unsure. 

“We should find drinks,” Tim said. 

“I can’t get drunk. And I’ve tried really, really hard.” 

“Then we should find me a drink,” Tim said, turning around abruptly and trying to walk through the crowd. Kon grabbed his hand and followed him. He didn’t look back. 

Stephanie arrived a few minutes later. She found them in a dark corner. 

They were talking, close together, Tim with a drink in his hand. 

“This house is awesome,” she said, joining them. “Are you gonna rush?” 

“Ha ha,” Tim said. Then Kon wrapped his arm around his shoulders and Tim jerked in surprise so hard some of his drink splashed out of his cup. 

“Are you okay, baby?” Kon asked, playful. Baby. It was way too warm in here. And Kon was good at this. And they were both looking at him, and he had to say something because his boyfriend just put an arm around him and acted like he was electrocuted. 

Tim wrapped an arm around his waist and he still felt warm but grounded. It was nice to have someone to hold. 

“I don’t want everyone from Delta Phi to know I’m taken.” 

He dropped his jaw, in mock outrage. He turned to Steph, his arm still around Tim. 

“Would you leave me for a frat boy?” Kon asked. 

“Well, this place has a hot tub in the backyard,” Steph said, “But with heat vision, any tub can be a hot tub.”  

“Could you not bring up our night jobs,” Tim said. 

“You’re so cute when you’re paranoid,” Kon said and leaned like he was going to kiss his cheek. Tim grabbed his face with one hand, stopping him short and squishing his cheeks. 

“I’m always paranoid.” 

Kon wrapped a hand around his wrist and pulled his hand down to his chest. Tim flattened his hand against his heart and met Kon’s gaze. 

“Exactly.” 

Tim smirked, with a knowing look. 

“Have these lines worked for you before?” 

“Oh, I haven’t even started using my lines, darling.” 

Tim made a face, “You sound weird saying darling.” 

“But you liked baby?” 

Heat pooled in the bottom of his stomach.  

“Baby is fine.” 

“Just fine?” Kon asked, innocently. 

“Baby is good.” 

Kon gave him a devastating smile, like he knew exactly what he was doing. He did know. He must. Tim tried to slow his heart rate and hoped Kon would blame it on the fact they were trying to pull off the lie in front of Steph. 

“Guys, they’re playing Jenga over there,” Steph said, shattering the moment. They didn’t move away from each other, but Tim felt like he could breathe again. 

“I think it’s a sexy, drinking game version of Jenga,” she continued, “We’ve gotta play!” 

“I can’t get drunk,” Kon told her, as he and Tim followed her to the kitchen, where a few people were rebuilding the tower. 

“But you can get sexy,” she pointed out. 

Danika, a girl with white dyed hair and glittery eyeshadow, explained the rules. It was a regular game of Jenga, a player pulls a block and tries not to topple the tower, but each block had a challenge written on it. The player had to complete the challenge, unless they knocked the tower over in which case they had to chug a cup that smelled like lighter fluid. 

Stephanie volunteered to go first. 

She slid a piece out easily and read the challenge out loud. 

“Do a shot without your hands,” she read, and then scoffed. “Um, I thought this was supposed to be hard,” a few people cheered her on and Danika handed her a shot. Steph wrapped her lips around it and threw her head back, her throat bobbing as she drank. Kon watched Tim’s face. Tim expected to feel a twist in his gut, a wave of emotion, something. But his only thought was, of course she’s good at that. And then, I should ask her to teach me. 

A frat guy went next, pulling out a piece that said: lick the neck of the person on your right. The girl next to him laughed. He did the challenge happily, even got a little carried away, while some people filmed on their phones and other cheered. 

There was a crowd forming around the game. The tower got more and more unstable as people took their turns. Take a body shot. Remove an item of clothing. Recreate your O face. Demonstrate your favorite sex position. Kon and Steph looked like they were having a lot of fun. Tim had a bit of a headache. 

By the time it was Tim’s turn, everyone was drunk and loud, watching the game like the crowd at a sports-bar. Kon and Steph watched eagerly as he slowly, carefully, pushed a Jenga piece out of the tower and into his hand. He read it. 

Make out with the person on your left. 

“Read it out loud!” said Danika. 

Kon and Tim looked at each other. 

The Jenga tower collapsed, suddenly, unnaturally, pieces flying through the air. The crowd went crazy. Someone passed the loser cup to Tim. 

“That was such a delayed reaction, bro,” said the frat guy next to Steph. 

“Someone must’ve bumped the table,” Steph said. 

Tim knew what happened. He turned around and disappeared into the crowd. 

“Tim, wait,” Kon said and followed him. Steph watched them go, hesitating. 

“Someone probably breathed on it wrong,” Danika said. “Probably fucking Joey.” The crowd gave a guy in the circle, apparently Joey, a hard time, some people shouting out his name and others groaning. Joey just laughed. Danika started rebuilding the tower and Steph helped her. 

Tim didn’t stop walking until he was in the backyard. It was raining, so he stopped at the edge of the patio protected by an awning. The pool, across the long grassy yard, splashed wildly as the raindrops hit the surface. The only other things under the awning was a big plastic cooler half filled with drinks and the hot tub. 

The door opened and Tim knew who it was. He turned to him with a glare. 

“That was completely inappropriate.” 

“What was?” 

The rain poured. Tim’s eyes narrowed. So that’s how he was going to play this. 

“You used your TK.” 

Kon gave him a look, “You said not to talk about our night jobs.” 

“Don’t joke about this. A huge crowd was watching.” 

“No one noticed—“ 

“Maybe someone did. And why? Because you didn’t want to kiss me. You could’ve told me if—“ 

“No— that’s— I was trying to do you a favor.” 

“How is this my fault?” 

“Tim. It’s no one’s fault. You just, I mean, I could tell you were…” 

“What?” He demanded. 

“Nervous,” Kon settled on. 

Tim saw red, “Don’t tell me how I feel. I would’ve kissed you. We’re dating, in case you forgot. And we already approved it.” 

“People can change their minds,” Kon said, gingerly. 

“I know,” Tim snapped, “So you should’ve told me that you don’t want to kiss me anymore.” 

“It’s not that,” Kon said. 

“Clearly, it is.” 

“You don’t want to kiss me,” Kon said. 

“You have no idea what I want,” Tim said without thinking. His heart dropped, worried that he’d said too much, but Kon didn’t even blink. 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Kon said, sounding so understanding that it was infuriating, “It’s just like in your letter, when you talked about the truth or dare thing.”

When he heard letter, Tim felt like he’d been slapped. 

“Don’t bring that up.” 

“I didn’t mean…” Kon trailed off, but Tim just waited, with a furious expression. Kon’s shoulders slumped, “I just thought maybe you didn’t want to kiss people during stupid party games.” 

“I wrote that when I was thirteen.” 

“Well, you looked nervous in there.” 

“You looked nervous.” 

“I’m not nervous,” Kon said, finally sounding frustrated. 

“Prove it,” Tim said, getting in his face. Kon studied his face and then closed the distance between them. He put one hand on Tim’s cheek and pressed their lips together. Tim threaded his fingers through Kon’s hair and made light fists at the base of his neck. Kon smiled, against Tim’s mouth, and deepened the kiss. Tim let him. 

They broke apart for air, breathing heavy, and stared at each other. Kon touched his cheek, rubbed his thumb slowly and sweetly, like he couldn’t help it. This time Tim lunged forward, licking his way into his mouth. Kon stepped back until he was sitting on the edge of the hot tub, his hands on Tim’s waist. They stayed like that for a while. Tim started rocking against his leg, and the next time they broke apart, Kon’s eyes dropped down. 

“Should we go somewhere private?” Kon asked, breathless, forcing himself to look back at Tim’s eyes. 

Tim breathed. He opened his mouth but no words came out. 

“We don’t have to,” Kon said, softly, rubbing his thumb in small circles against the skin just underneath Tim’s shirt. It felt electric. Tim burned. 

“There you are,” Steph said, stepping out of the doorway. “I wanted to find you guys before I left.” 

Tim didn’t jump this time. Possibly because his heart had already beat out of his chest. Kon dropped his hands though, resting them against his own knees. Tim’s sides felt cold. He wanted to grab his hands and put them back. He wasn’t even sure why he’d let go. They were supposed to be convincing Stephanie they were dating. 

Tim’s rational thinking kicked into gear, and he realized why Kon had suggested they go somewhere private. He must’ve known Stephanie was right there, listening. He must’ve heard her. Tim wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and Kon tracked the movement. 

“I should go too. I work tonight,” Tim said. 

“Oh my god,” Steph rolled her eyes, “Take the night off. Your boyfriend looks like he’s going to die.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Kon stood. “I’m fine. I should go. It was nice to see you Steph.” 

“But was it nice to see Tim?” 

“Yeah,” Kon glanced at Tim. “I mean, it’s always— he’s really nice.” 

The only sound was rain hitting the awning. 

“Yeah,” Tim said after a beat, smiling at Kon’s bumbling act. Steph really thought the kiss affected him. He was a better actor than Tim thought. “Get home safe, baby.” 

“I already used that one,” Kon said. 

“We can both use the same one.” 

“Just say you’re uncreative, honey bunny.” 

“I veto honey bunny,” Tim said flatly. “And you shouldn’t test me, boo bear.” 

Kon laughed. Tim couldn’t look away.   

# 

Tim patrolled that night. But he couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss. 

The stupid part of his brain kept replaying the way Kon had looked at him. And the way he’d asked to go somewhere private. And then his useless imagination kept exploring what would’ve happened if Tim had just said yes. Yes, let’s go somewhere private. Yes, I have a dorm room, I have a car, I have a private plane. Should I make a quick call and buy us a house? 

The much larger, smarter part of his brain knew Kon had just been laying it on thick for Stephanie’s sake. He had super hearing. He had to know she was right there. He was being a good friend. 

Tim was so distracted he actually got stabbed by some basic street criminal in a ski mask and black turtleneck. The guy looked half-scared as he jabbed the dagger into Tim’s side, an untrained moved he definitely should’ve been able to dodge. It was embarrassing. 

Alfred patched him up in the cave. Six stitches. What a waste of thread. 

“Is there something on your mind, Master Timothy?” Alfred asked. 

“No,” Tim said snapping back into the moment, “The guy just got lucky.” 

“I’d recommend a week of rest,” Alfred said, finishing the last stitch. “Though I suspect Master Bruce will say two.” 

“He’s not the boss of me,” Tim grumbled, mostly to make Alfred smile. Which he did. 

Tim went to his room and laid in bed. Sleep was impossible. After half an hour, Alfred knocked, with a cup of sleep remedy tea. He always knew. Tim graciously accepted, though he knew it wouldn’t work. That kiss. Alfred held the tray under his arm. 

“I’d like to remind you of your promise to Master Richard.” 

Tim blinked. 

“Oh, the birthday party. Of course.” 

“Master Damian and I have already wrapped a gift.” 

“Good,” Tim said, curious what gift Damian would pick out that Alfred would approve of. Maybe like a self-help book or something. Just passive-aggressive enough for both of them. 

“I trust that you will keep your brother’s best interest at heart.” 

Tim titled his head. Alfred wanted him to make sure Damian was okay at that stupid bully’s party. So Alfred didn’t think Damian should be forced to go either. Only Dick could go against Bruce and Alfred, but still have their full support. 

“I will,” Tim said. Alfred nodded once and gently closed the door behind him. 

Tim finished his drink and his thoughts returned to Kon. 

The tea didn’t work. It might as well have been caffeinated. 

#

Kon landed on the gravel road outside Wayne manor. He heard Tim and Damian arguing in Tim’s sleek red Porsche. Tim was in the drivers seat. Damian was in the passenger, seat belt on, arms crossed. A mid-sized square box wrapped in matte black wrapping paper with a silver ribbon sat on his lap. 

Kon opened the door on Damian’s side. 

“Get in the back,” Tim told Damian, yet again. 

“The clone does not need to come,” Damian argued. 

“Well, he is, and he’s 6’4, so get in the backseat.” 

“No.” 

“I can squeeze in,” Kon offered. 

“We’ll just take another car,” Tim said, with a tight jaw. 

“No,” Damian said again, like a spoiled brat, “I’m already seated. Clone, crawl behind Tim’s seat or better still, do not come.” 

Tim seethed but got out and pulled his seat forward for Kon to try to squeeze through. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, as Kon walked around to his side. 

“It’s fine,” Kon said, suddenly in Tim’s space, and Tim remembered that he spent an hour in bed like night thinking about the fact that some couples kissed hello. He stepped back. 

“It was almost impossible to get him in the car,” Tim said. 

“How’d you do it?” 

“I threatened the tell Bruce about the letters.” 

“You didn’t tell him when it happened?” 

Tim shrugged, “It was more valuable as blackmail.” Kon tried not to laugh. 

Tim hadn’t wanted to use his blackmail so soon, and for something that for all intents and purposes was supposed to help Damian, but Dick really wanted this to happen. And he felt guilty that he still hadn’t technically told Dick about his relationship, but he’d told Jason. He could probably get one or two more uses out of it before Damian found a way to even the score. 

Damian was silent the entire car ride, glaring out the window like he was trying to develop heat vision. 

Kon was awkwardly scrunched in the back, trying to keep his knees from pushing into Tim’s seat. He tried to make conversation but Tim wasn’t really in the mood either. They kept making accidental eye contact in the rearview mirror. 

Finally, Tim pulled up to the street next to Gotham Public Park. Damian had the door open before Tim put it in park. 

“Wait, what time is this over?” Tim asked. 

“I will message you should your services be needed,” Damian said and slammed the door. Tim glared. He walked away with his gift in hand, quickly disappearing through the trees. 

“So. You asked me to come because you want me to spy on him, right?” 

Tim had his ways of spying. He didn’t need super-hearing. When Dick first asked him to do this, he suggested he invited Kon. And Tim wanted to. He just wanted to. 

“Yes,” Tim lied. “Dick talked to his teachers, so things are better at school. But we should make sure he’s okay.” 

“I can’t imagine anyone pushing that kid around.” 

“It’s a different kind of bullying,” Tim said. “It’s like, they’re pretending to be nice, but actually making fun of him. I wish they would try to push him. It would be easier.” Kon took the passenger seat and then they both waited. 

#

Nolan Montgomery was one of the most popular kids at Gotham Academy. He had short hair, the color of hay, and light green eyes. He had a stupid chin that was too big. Physically, he was weak, with arms like twigs, although he played on the school’s soccer team which seemed to impress people. 

Damian was not impressed. 

“Damian!” Nolan Montgomery shouted as Damian walked up to the party. One of the park’s public picnic tables was overflowing with presents. There were two bunches of  red balloons tied to weights on either side. Another picnic table had the catering, and a triple tiered birthday cake decorated like a soccer field. Most of their class was here already, in sundresses and shorts and t-shirts. Damian wore a tailored button up and slacks. 

“Now the party can start,” Nolan said, and several kids laughed. 

Damian did not want to be here. It was a waste of time. It was just as bad as being at the Academy. If he had his way, he would be home schooled. He didn’t need Father or Grayson or Pennyworth’s time either, he could home school himself. 

“Happy birthday,” Damian said, dropping his gift onto the table. It was a loosely wrapped candle and he hoped it would break.

“Thanks, buddy,” Nolan said, condescendingly. Damian wanted to turn around and leave, but he forced himself to remember the look on Grayson’s face when he spoke of Nolan Montgomery. Worried. As if Nolan Montgomery’s idiotic comments could hurt him. Damian did not care about the opinion of a pathetic sixth grader, but if Grayson would only be satisfied by the appearance of friendship, fine. Damian could suffer through pretending for an hour. 

“Hey, do you want to pick our first game?” 

“No, thank you,” Damian said, biting back a comment. 

“No, you should,” Nolan said. “Right, guys?” A few kids shouted out patronizing encouragement. 

Nolan didn’t wait for Damian’s answer. 

“I’ll give you two options. Freeze tag or Simon Says?” 

“Freeze tag,” Damian said, icily. He wanted to snap that both games were childish and he wanted to punch him for making him choose even though he couldn’t put a finger on why it infuriated him. 

“But don’t you want to boss us around with Simon Says?” 

“I don’t care which inane game you wish you play,” Damian said. 

Nolan raised his eyebrows, and a couple of boys from the soccer team went ‘oooh’ as if Damian had challenged him. Damian prickled. He thought he was still being polite. 

This was what Grayson did not understand. He wasn’t trying to be difficult. 

“Well if Damian says they’re inane,” Nolan said and a few kids laughed. 

“Is that word above your vocabulary level?” Damian snapped. 

“Oh, yeah. You’re too smart for me,” Nolan said and shared an amused look with the others and Damian was done. He had arrived and given Nolan Montgomery a birthday gift and that was good enough for him. It would have to be good enough for Grayson. 

“Aw, don’t leave Damian,” Nolan said, as he started to walk away. There were a couple laughs and people shouting out. 

“You got all dressed up. Don’t leave,” Nolan said. “We can play something from your country. Where are you from, again?” 

Damian paused. He turned back to face Nolan, a murderous glint in his eyes, but before he could respond, the robots attacked. 

Three shiny silver robots flew into the park. They were humanoid with cold metal faces permanently glaring. As they descended on the party, kids began screaming. Nolan’s parents ordered everyone to run and fumbled for their phones. Damian kept his feet firmly planted, his hair blowing wildly as the robots flew closer. He took a quick survey of his surroundings and then focused on the machines. 

Three robots at a children’s party, obviously well-crafted. The Montgomerys were not a particularly wealthy or well-connected family. Ties to organized crime seemed unlikely. This was a group of children from the wealthiest families in Gotham, and the robots had not killed yet, so he deduced it was a kidnapping. 

He ran at the picnic table of gifts and grabbed the obviously wrapped skis. He didn’t bother to unwrap the tacky rainbow paper. He grabbed the ski poles and flipped them into his hands until he had a good grip. They weren’t swords but they would do. 

One of the robots fired a shower of laser blasts onto Nolan’s parents. They screamed and attempted to run. The two other robots each grabbed a child. Damian threw one of the ski poles like a javelin at the elbow of one of the robots. It did not pierce the metal, but the robot turned toward him. 

He jumped onto the table and shouted. 

“I am the son of Bruce Wayne! The richest man in Gotham. Take me!” 

The robot dropped his classmate and flew toward him.  

“Get down from there,” Nolan’s mother screamed. 

“Do not worry. I’m enrolled in a self defense class,” Damian said. He jumped off the table and brought the sharp end of the ski pole into the robot’s head like a skewer. Sparks flew from the robot’s head and Damian twisted the pole until they both hit the ground, Damian rolled and was back on his feet in an instant. The robot twitched, so Damian stabbed him over and over with the ski pole. 

All of the children stopped running. They were staring at him with wide eyed shock. Nolan Montgomery’s jaw was dropped. Damian smirked. 

Superboy appeared in the sky above them. He swooped down, picked Damian up by his armpits, and flew off. 

“Unhand me! This instant!” Damian screamed. 

Damian attempted to fight him, but the stupid clone didn’t even feel it. 

Superboy flew him to a rooftop, where they hovered a foot above the concrete. 

“I’m sorry but Tim told me to get you out of there. I’ll bring you back when it’s over.” 

He dropped Damian onto the roof and then flew off quickly. 

Damian immediately began climbing down, taking care to be discrete since it was the middle of the day. Sticking to the shadows, it took him longer than normal. He ran back to the park, just a mile away, and discovered that Red Robin and Superboy had defeated the remaining robots. Several parents were already there. 

As soon as Damian appeared, the remaining kids swarmed him. 

“That was crazy!” 

“Have you fought robots before?!” 

“Red Robin’s here! He saved us!” 

Nolan pushed his way to the front and looked at Damian, finally, with the respect he deserved. 

“Dude, what self defense class are you in? I want to take it!” 

The rest of the kids started yelling, eager to join the class, too. Damian held up a hand and they all fell silent. 

“My class is far too advanced. Perhaps there is a beginner course desperate enough to accept you.” 

Everyone started talking again until Red Robin walked up to them and they turned to him with quiet awe. Damian resisted rolling his eyes. 

“Okay, that’s enough excitement for one day. Everyone needs to find their parents.” The kids dispersed, chatting excitedly among themselves. 

Superboy flew off with the robots right as the Gotham police arrived on the scene. Red Robin disappeared into the trees, and of course, ten minutes later Drake appeared to pick up Damian. The police let him go, even though Drake was not technically his guardian and after this kidnapping attempt he felt they should be more cautious. The GPD’s incompetence knew no bounds. 

They did not speak until they were in the car, where Superboy, now in his civilian clothes, was squeezed into the backseat. Damian pulled his door closed with more force than necessary and then turned to Tim with a glare. 

“How dare you remove me from the fight.” 

“When we’re attacked as civilians we need to react as civilians.” 

“To be clear, I should have let the killer robots fly off with innocent children?” 

“You should have called me.” 

“There was no time. I thought your boyfriend might be listening anyway. And once again, I was right.” 

Tim paused. 

Kon, with his knees awkwardly pulled up in the small backseat, attempted to lean forward. 

“Can I say something?” Kon said. 

“No,” Damian said, angrily. “And from now on, I vow to carry Kryptonite always. If you ever lay hands on me again, you shall regret it.” 

“Just shut up,” Tim said. Damian’s eyes lit with fury but Tim continued, “On some level you know I’m right. You had kids asking you a lot of questions and your explanation was flimsy. I don’t think you understand what’s normally taught in a self defense class. Besides, I told Kon to take you. Be mad at me, not him.” 

Damian looked at him with utter contempt. But he didn’t argue. 

“Uh, I just wanted to say, I was listening the whole time and I understand why you didn’t want to go to this stupid party. Before I left I took back your gift, because seriously, that Nolan kid sucks.” Kon held up Damian’s gift. 

Damian sniffed, unimpressed.

“I purposefully chose a terrible gift. I don’t want it. But I hope stealing from a child on his birthday gives you some perverse pleasure.” Damian said, but when he took the gift from Kon he had a devious, pleased look on his face. 

Tim caught Kon’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They shared a smile. 

“Wait,” Kon furrowed his brow, “Tim, you’re bleeding.” 

He must’ve smelled it. Tim started driving, unbothered. 

“Oh, I think I popped some stitches. It’s fine.” 

“Why do you have stitches?” 

“Last night he was stabbed,” Damian said, conversationally. 

“You were stabbed?!” 

#

Tim was working in his office when he got the phone call. 

It was Kon. No contact photo. He was going to answer, but not right away. He let it ring two more times before he couldn’t stop himself. 

“Hey,” Tim said, aiming for casual. 

“Tim you’ve gotta get over here,” Kon whispered frantically. Tim snap to attention.  

“What’s wrong?” 

“No— it’s— Nothing bad. I’m just hanging out with Cassie and it’s really awkward. We shouldn’t be alone together.” 

Tim exhaled, relieved, and then put the phone on speaker. 

“I can’t tonight.” 

“Why?”

Tim flipped through a stack of bank statements, “I’m way behind on my Wayne Enterprise work.” 

“Isn’t there someone who can do it for you?” 

“Yes. But I do it best.” 

“Can’t you do it later?” 

“No.” 

He made a noise of frustration and then said, “Just give me two hours. It’s movie night.” 

“Why do I need to be there?” Tim asked, genuinely curious. 

“Because. Because you’re pretending to be my boyfriend and I want you here. Is that enough of a reason?” 

Tim’s throat tightened.

I want you here.  

“Tim?” Kon asked. Tim swallowed. 

“What if I watched half a movie?” 

“Better than nothing,” Kon said. 

Tim took the Zeta to Titans Tower. Kon was waiting for him right outside the door. They sat side by side on the couch. Cassie took the leather chair, with a big bowl of popcorn in her lap. 

“I can’t believe you got him to come to movie night,” she said. “Bart will be heartbroken he missed it.” 

Tim was surprised. He knew the three often had movie nights, but he didn’t know they wanted him there. Would Bart actually be disappointed? I want you here, is what Kon had said. But did he mean it? Or was he only worried about being alone in a dark room with his ex? 

“Tim, you should pick the movie,” she said. 

“Oh, no,” he said. “No. I’m not going to stay for long.” 

“Are you leaving us for the Justice League movie night?” she joked. 

“No,” he said, “Nothing like that—“ 

“Tim’s a workaholic,” Kon explained, cutting him off. Tim gave him a look. 

“No I’m not. It’s a Tuesday night and I happen to have work I need to do.” 

“You can’t admit you’re a workaholic?” 

Tim might, if threatened at knifepoint, admit that he sometimes had a tendency to spent too much time working and forget about sleeping and taking care of himself and other activities. But he wasn’t going to admit it here, on this stupid couch, doing Kon a favor. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Tim said, irritated. Kon half laughed half scoffed and Tim narrowed his eyes. 

“I’ll pick the movie,” Cassie said, pulling up Hulu. 

She picked Booksmart. Tim had never seen it, though to be fair he hadn’t seen most movies made in the last five years. Kon turned off the lights and grabbed a bowl of popcorn from the kitchen. He sat back on the couch, closer to Tim than before. They were basically sharing a cushion. 

Tim was sitting up perfectly straight. One hand on the arm rest, the other on his lap. Kon nudged him. Tim glanced over, and he was offering the bowl of popcorn. 

Tim’s shoulders relaxed.

He took a handful of popcorn. They shared a smile. 

Tim started enjoying himself. The movie was actually really funny. He went for another handful of popcorn, but froze when Kon scooted closer and put an arm around him. Tim’s eyes snapped to his, and he subtly gestured toward Cassie. Tim forced himself to breathe. This was fine. This was just like the party. Except way different because the only sound was the movie softly playing in the background and the only light was the glow of the screen and they were pressed together in a million places. 

Tim stopped paying attention to the movie, which was a shame because he had been invested. He stared straight ahead but he couldn’t focus for more than a few frames. 

If he turned his head to the left, he could press his nose to his cheek. They’d never been this close. Except at the party. Once again, his brain pulled up the memory of their kiss. That kiss. He could do it right now, turn and press their lips together. Cassie was there, that could be the reason. Couples kissed during movies. He wanted to turn and burry his head in his neck and breathe in deeply. But he kept his eyes glued to the screen and made a valiant attempt to clear his head. 

Kon’s hand on his shoulder started playing with the hem of his shirt sleeve, and that didn’t help at all. 

Tim must be tired. That had to be it. He’d barely slept the last few nights, up late working on the killer robot case from the birthday party disaster. His stab wound stitches were out, but that injury was probably affecting him too. He was just tired, and Kon was wearing a soft sweatshirt that smelled like fresh laundry that dried in the sunshine, and Tim so rarely touched anyone. That’s what made Kon’s hands on him so intoxicating. That’s why he wanted his hands everywhere.

He had to leave soon anyway. He’d give it five more minutes. He might as well lay it on thick, for Cassie. He melted into Kon’s side and closed his eyes. Kon tensed for a second but then relaxed. Tim felt so warm. He exhaled. 

Tim slowly opened his eyes. 

On the tv screen, R2D2 and C3PO walked through the desert. Tim sat up. 

“Hey,” Kon said, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Is this Star Wars?” Tim asked blinking back sleep. 

Kon glanced from the screen to him. 

“Oh. Uh, yeah. You fell asleep during Booksmart, and I didn’t want to wake you, so I just put on another movie.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me,” Tim asked, then worried he sounded too angry added, “Honey?”  

“You don’t have to call me honey. Cassie went home hours ago.” 

Tim’s stomach dropped. Hours. He grabbed Kon’s arm and checked his watch. 

“Shit,” Tim said under his breath. It was 1 am. “You should’ve woken me up.” 

“I guess I fell asleep, too,” Kon said, stretching his arms above his head. His hair was poking up in a million directions and looked really soft, and Tim couldn’t deal with that right now. 

“You knew I only wanted to stay for an hour.” 

“I couldn’t wake you. You looked so peaceful. And you actually make a great blanket—“ 

“Don’t joke,” Tim said. “I didn’t even want to come in the first place.” 

“I know,” Kon said, getting frustrated. “You never want to come. Because you’re a workaholic.” 

“Like you actually wanted me here.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Tim folded his arms. 

“You only invited me because you didn’t want to be alone with Cassie.” 

“Yeah, this time. I was worried it would be weird. But it wasn’t, so thanks, I guess. But I— we’ve invited you before. You’re always invited and you always blow us off.” 

“You guys don’t actually want me to come.” 

“Why would you think that?” 

Kon looked up at him from the couch and sounded so genuinely confused. It made Tim pause. It hit him suddenly that he wasn’t even sure what he was mad about. The paperwork he’d abandoned didn’t need to be done by tomorrow. It didn’t need to be done by him, specifically, at all. He’d enjoyed the movie, what he’d paid attention to at least. Would it have been so bad if, when Kon called and asked him to come, he’d said yes? Why did he say no? 

“We never hang out,” Tim said, trying to remember the reason. 

“Because every time we ask you, you say you’re busy,” Kon said. “It’s not because we don’t want to. We do. You’re a fun person to be around.” 

Tim felt tears pricking the back of his eyes, which was an absolutely insane reaction to being called a fun person. Maybe it was the sincerity in Kon’s voice. Or maybe it was the look in his eyes, like he was two seconds from jumping off the couch and hugging him. So stupid. Tim collected himself. 

“I’m glad I came. Tonight was nice,” he said. 

Kon smiled and on the tv, the hologram of princess Leia talked about her only hope. 

#

Cassie made a group chat with Bart and Stephanie and texted a picture she took of Kon and Tim sleeping cuddled together on the couch. 

She texted, Tim “I won’t stay long” Drake at his first team movie night lmao  

Stephanie reacted with a laugh to the photo. 

Bart reacted with a thumbs down and texted: not Tim showing up the one time I stay home 

Steph texted: he probably hates you 

Bart texted: 🥺

#

On Friday, Tim sat at the dinner table with Alfred, Damian, and Bruce. 

Damian monopolized the conversation with a breakdown of the many failures of the Gotham Academy physical education program. Tim pushed his sautéed bell peppers around his plate and studied Bruce. 

He was pretty sure everyone knew about him and Kon. If not from Kon’s frankly terrible performance when he had dinner here, then from Dick who walked in on them twice or Damian who confirmed he knew last weekend. Still, he was curious. 

“Is something on your mind, Tim?” Bruce asked. 

Tim set down his fork. 

“Do you have any advice for the Titans?” 

“Yes. I think it’s a disgrace that you and your pathetic team are no closer to solving the Killer Robots case, which is rightfully mine as I’ve—“ 

“Damian, we have our own case to work,” Bruce reminded him. 

Damian scowled down at his plate. 

“Are you having trouble with anyone on the team?” Bruce asked, looking back at Tim with an intensity in his eyes. 

“No,” Tim said, slowly. “I was just curious. Do you think I’m doing anything wrong?” 

“If I may, I—“ 

“You may not, Master Damian,” Alfred said, silently pushing back his chair. “Though perhaps you might help me prepare dessert. I recall you enjoy licking the spoon.” 

“That is infantile, Pennyworth,” Damian droned, but still stood and followed him toward the promise of brownie batter. 

Bruce and Tim were alone. At a long, empty table. 

“Do you feel what you’re doing is wrong?” 

Tim hated this. He wanted to be subtle, test the waters, but obviously everyone knew what he was talking about. 

“I’m asking about my leadership style.” 

“Tim,” Bruce said, with the slightest change of tone that meant he was done with bullshit. Tim never should have brought this up. He glanced toward his nearest exit. 

“I should hope I’ve made myself clear with Dick’s dating history, but it’s worth saying out loud. What you feel is not wrong. I want you to have a healthy relationship, with a partner of any gender.” 

“Bruce, seriously. I was just asking about the team,” Tim repeated, praying he would give him an out. 

Bruce studied him. 

“Have you spoken to Dick about relations with an alien?”  

Relations.  

“Nevermind. I’m going to go help with dessert,” Tim stood because he did not need a repeat of the horror show when Bruce gave him the talk. 

“Invite him back for dinner,” Bruce blurted, before Tim stepped through the kitchen door. He had a feeling that invitation had been Alfred’s idea. So, everyone was talking about him. Great. 

Still, there was a part of him that unclenched. He knew Bruce would accept him, but it was one thing to know it and another to hear it. For a moment, he wondered about his parents. Based on their politics, when they were alive, he doubted very much that they would’ve accepted him. There was a pang in his chest because he would never know for sure. He hated not knowing. 

Damian dropped his spoon in the sink when he heard Tim enter, but it didn’t matter. There was a streak of chocolate on his face. Tim smiled to himself and didn’t tell him. 

Gotham had a lot of pollution. Steph knew it was bad, but it did create some beautiful sunsets with thick violet clouds and a saturated orange sky. Stephanie, in her dark purple Spoiler suit, sat on the roof of National Bank. Her feet dangled over the edge. She re-read the letter. 

I love you and I don’t know how to stop. 

She furrowed her brow. 

She pulled out her phone and called Tim. 

“Can we talk later tonight?” Stephanie asked. 

“Tonight?” Tim repeated, his phone in hand. 

“Yeah,” she said, a little softer. 

“I can’t. It’s Friday,” he blurted. 

“We can do it after patrol—“ 

“I’m busy,” he cut her off. “Friday is date night. Me and Kon.” 

There was silence. Tim visibly cringed, but prayed she wouldn’t be suspicious. He hated lying to her, but it was necessary. She obviously wanted to talk about the letter. He needed more time to think of answers to her inevitable questions. 

Tim ran a thumb over his bottom lip and waited. 

“That’s great, Tim,” Steph finally said. Flatly. 

“I know we haven’t been hanging out as much,” he said. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she said, this time sounding sincere. “It’s your first relationship. It’s exciting.” 

“Still.” 

“Want to patrol with me right now?” 

He wanted to. So badly. He loved patrolling together. But it would mean being alone with her, and he just wasn’t ready. He told himself it was the Cass variable. Once Cass was convinced, everything would be easier. 

“I have an essay to finish first,” he said. 

“You should drop out.” 

After patrol, Tim googled the best restaurant in Smallville. He told Steph they were going on a date, and he needed to create some photographic evidence. The first result was the Red Lobster, but he wouldn’t eat that with his worst enemy's butter. He eventually texted Kon and asked him to meet him at Rusty’s Pizza Parlor, which sounded terrible, but had the most five star reviews. 

When Tim walked in, Kon was already at a booth. He wore his glasses and a leather jacket over a flannel and jeans, a go-to look for Conner Kent. He spotted him instantly, but Kon waved to get his attention anyway. 

“Did you miss me?” Kon asked as Tim slid into the red vinyl seat. 

“What? No, remember we agreed, Friday nights, we would pretend to go on dates. You said you were always free.” 

“Tim, chill,” Kon said, “I remember.” 

Tim pulled out his phone. 

“Right. We should have a few pictures together. Do you mind if I take one for my instagram story?” 

“Knock yourself out,” Kon said. 

“It will only be seen by Stephanie, Cass, Cassie, Bart, and Duke.” 

“Duke. Is he the sixth?” 

“What?” 

“Your letters. You never told me who the sixth person was.” 

Tim made a face, “Well, it’s not Duke. He’s like my brother.” 

“Just tell me.” 

Tim looked at him thoughtfully. 

A waitress approached their table with a large pepperoni pizza and two chocolate milkshakes. Tim raised an eyebrow and Kon reached for a drink. 

“You already ordered?” 

“You don’t have to pay for everything.” 

“I want to,” Tim said. 

“What about what I want, Tim?” He asked, pushing the other drink toward him. 

“Hm. At the very least, don’t order for me. I don’t even like pepperoni.”  

Just then, the waitress returned with a medium pizza with pesto sauce, artichoke hearts, black olives, and balsamic on the side. Tim stared at the pizza, then slowly met Kon’s eyes. 

Kon sipped his milkshake. 

“You ordered yourself a large?” Tim asked. 

“Why not, I’m buying,” Kon grinned. “Come on. Aren’t you a little impressed I know your pizza order?”  

Tim grabbed his drink and stirred the straw. 

“You forgot the cherry tomatoes.” 

“Oh, I forgot— except I didn’t,” Kon pulled out a ziplock sandwich bag from his jacket pocket, “Bam. Fresh cherry tomatoes from my family farm.” 

Tim took the bag. 

“Admit you’re impressed. Most people bring flowers. I brought you farm to table produce.” 

“You know, usually these get cooked with the pizza.” 

Kon stopped short. 

Tim laughed harder than he had in a while.  

Kon tried to grab the tomatoes back, “Forget it, then.” Tim kept the bag out of reach. 

“No,” Tim said, talking through laughter, “No, I’m eating them.” 

“They’re not cooked,” Kon grumbled. 

Tim opened the bag, “Then they’re appetizers. This is our charcuterie. A bag of tomatoes.” 

“You’re laughing at me.” 

“These have to be in the photo.” 

# 

Tim walked out of Business Management Fundamentals and immediately spotted Kon, in a flannel over a grey sweatshirt. 

“It’s Friday,” Kon said when Tim approached him. 

Tim raised an eyebrow. 

“Friday is date night,” Kon said. “And you should take more pictures of me. I look great.” 

Tim laughed. 

He told Tim he had reservations for 7. He wanted the where to be a surprise but it was within walking distance of Gotham University. They walked hand in hand. Tim noticed a few students sneaking photos. Probably for their group chats but maybe the press would get a hold of something. That would be for the best. Steph believed they were together but Cass was like a human lie detector. Tim had to hope that if their body language couldn’t fool Cass, the press and people around them would be enough. 

“Okay, our first date was the frat party, right?” Kon said when they were a few blocks away. 

Tim felt hyper aware of his hand. Their fingers were interlocked. It felt like no one would be able to pry them apart. 

“Right,” Tim said, striving for a causal tone. 

“Which I knew you were going to hate.” 

Tim actually had a great time. He loved frat parties now. The second he got home that night, he hacked into every frat’s social calendar and added their planned parties to his Google calendar. Not that Kon needed to know that. 

“Yeah,” Tim said. 

“Then the pizza place was good, but you picked it, and I should’ve brought flowers.” 

“I ate the tomatoes—“ 

“Because you thought it was funny. Not what I was going for. But for our third date, I planned something you’re going to love. Actually. It’s going to be the best date of your life.” 

“I’ll try not to get my hopes up.” 

“Oh, no. Get them up. Way up.” 

Tim narrowed his eyes, though he was smiling. He was very familiar with Gotham’s fine dining. There were only two places that took reservations in the direction they were walking: Perch, a rooftop restaurant, and Shikibu, a sushi place. Tim didn’t particularly love either, and it didn’t seem like the sort of surprise Kon would get excited for. It wasn’t the sort of surprise he was dressed for, but Tim doubted Kon ever thought twice about his clothes. It didn’t matter what he was wearing, with a face like that he always looked like his next step might be onto a red carpet. If he thought he was paying for a five star dinner though, he was insane. Tim would break into his bank app and cancel his card before he let that happen. 

They stopped walking. 

“Surprise!” Kon gestured with both hands. 

Tim looked up at the flashing neon sign reading Gotham Bowling Alley. 

“I am surprised,” Tim said, finally. 

Kon’s shoulders fell, “I thought you loved bowling.” 

The corner of Tim’s mouth quirked up, but he valiantly fought off the laugh. Kon noticed anyway. 

“Are you giving me hard time? You brought the team here,” Kon said, as if trying to jog his memory, “And I broke something and we didn’t get to finish the game.” 

“I know,” Tim tried to console him, “This is really thoughtful. We’ll have fun.” 

“You don’t love it?” 

“I’ve only played that one time,” Tim said, again hiding a smile, “and like you said, we didn’t really finish the game, but—“ 

“Why did you force us all to go, then?” 

Tim glanced away. 

“It was Dick’s idea. He told me I needed to loosen up as team leader. So I planned a mandatory fun night.” 

“If a night is fun, it doesn’t have to be mandatory.” Now Kon was hiding his smile. Tim shoved him. Kon stumbled a step, not that he actually had to. They were in public, keeping up appearances. Tim forced himself to remember that. 

“Whatever. That’s why I never did it again.” 

Kon looked contemplative. 

“Okay. You hate bowling.” 

“I don’t hate—“ 

“That’s fine. I can adapt. A perfect date for Tim Drake. What does Tim love? Solving crimes.” 

“Shut up,” Tim glanced around them, but the few people walking the streets seemed too far to hear. Kon continued thinking out loud. 

“Tea. Tim Burton movies.” 

“What?” 

“You have the DVDs in your room,” Kon explained, only half paying attention. 

Tim was surprised. Kon was a great hero, but he never thought of him as observant. How did he notice such a small detail? They weren’t prominently displayed, they were among the messy piles of his bookshelf. Kon had only been in his room twice. 

“You like photography. Live music.” 

“I don’t remember the last time I saw live music,” Tim said, incredulous. 

Kon frowned. 

“When you play music, it’s always the live version.” 

Tim racked his brain, and realized it was true. It wasn’t a conscious choice, he just usually preferred the live versions of songs. There was a rough edged quality to the music that was lost in the squeaky clean studio versions. Tim suddenly remembered being a kid, listening to music where you could hear the crowds cheering in the space between verses. He’d imagine all those people, listening the same time he was. 

“I guess you’re right,” Tim said, feeling suddenly exposed. 

Kon’s eyes lit up. 

“That’s it. I know what we should do.” 

After a quick Google search, and ten minutes of arguing, Tim agreed to be flown to Bludhaven. For some big surprise Kon apparently had. 

“I’m not flying with you unless you’re in your super suit.” 

“You just want to see me in my super suit.” 

“It’s a stupid t-shirt.” 

Kon raised his eyebrows anyway and ducked into a dark alley to change. He hated changing in Gotham. It was almost always a dark alley. 

After a five minute argument, Tim agreed to be carried bridal style. Apparently, he could fly faster that way and was less likely to drop him. Both compelling arguments. 

The last time Kon held him like this, he was half conscious and bleeding out. This time, he felt wide awake. One strong arm was around his back, the other around his legs.  None of their skin touched, but Kon’s hands burned through his clothes, though his body, right to the core of him. It was worse because Kon could hear his heart pounding in his chest. This close, he could probably feel it. Tim held on around his neck and tried not to tense too tightly. It was hard to do when Kon shot straight up into the air.

In Bludhaven, Kon dropped him onto a secluded park bench and Tim took a moment to appreciate solid ground. Kon changed back into his clothes and then took Tim’s hand again. 

“Okay, I was wrong about the bowling but this is going to be the best date of your life,” Kon said, leading him down the sidewalk, and into an Irish pub. Tim raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting until Kon dragged him to a two person table. The bar, with it’s wooden walls and kitschy Irish decoration, was crowded with almost every table occupied. 

“We’re at a bar,” Tim said, slowly.  

“We’re not just at a bar,” Kon grinned, “We’re at a bar trivia night.” 

Tim titled his head, “I’ve never done trivia before.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I know you’re going to love this. Because what do you love the most?” 

“The satisfaction of a job well done?” 

“No,” Kon leaned closer, “Being right.” 

Tim worried that he wasted too much of his life watching, an invisible spectator, a fake person always desperate for a glimpse of real people with real lives. For a moment, his worries vanished. When Kon looked at him, he felt seen. He felt real. 

“Are you ready to fucking crush at trivia?” Kon asked him in a low voice. 

“Absolutely,” Tim answered. 

They won. Between Kon’s knowledge of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker and Tim’s near photographic memory and years of wikipedia deep dives, they won by a landslide. 

“Was this the best date you’ve ever had?” Kon asked, dropping him back on campus. 

“It might be,” Tim said, even though it definitely was. 

#

In high school, Bernard had a huge crush on Tim Drake. 

They sat next to each other in pre-calc. Tim was always nice. And really good looking. And maybe Bernard would’ve gotten an A in that class if he spent more time listening to the lesson and less time desperately trying to think of conversation starters. 

Of course it was pointless anyway because Tim was way out of his league. Tim hung around the most popular kids in their year, yet he didn’t seem particularly close to anyone. He didn’t do any clubs or sports. If Tim went to parties, Bernard wouldn’t know because he wasn’t invited to them. He doubted it, anyway. Tim probably had better things to do. 

He knew Tim was going to Gotham University, but he never expected to run into him. Bernard was a philosophy major on the mock trial team who spent his free time playing Dungeons and Dragons. He sincerely doubted that he and Tim would ever be in the same room again, except maybe graduation. 

One day, Bernard walked into his dorm and saw a light blue envelope on his pillow. He assumed his roommate picked up both of their mail, but it was weird. There was no address on the envelope, just his name is slanted writing. 

He opened the letter. 

At first, he assumed it was a prank. Maybe his roommate was secretly pissed about the mountain range of dirty clothes piled on the floor and he wrote this fake love letter as a mean joke. 

Bernard sat on his bed and read the letter again. And again. 

Eventually, he realized Tim was the only person who could have written this. But why, Bernard had no idea. 

He had to talk to him. After spending hours in his notes app crafting the perfect paragraph, he sent him a DM. Tim never replied. He didn’t even read it. He was only following three people on instagram— Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, and Duke Thomas. So it was possible that he hadn’t seen it. Tim probably got lots of unsolicited DMs, which did not make him feel any better. 

Bernard spent a lot of time wondering why Tim would write this and give it to him now, especially with no way to contact him. Tim should be the one DM-ing him.

Eventually, he saw him, last in line at the campus Starbucks. Bernard was on his way to class, but this was way more important. He walked into the coffee shop, heart beating fast. He got into line behind Tim. 

“Hey, Tim,” Bernard said. 

Tim turned around. 

“Bernard. Hi. It’s been a while,” Tim said, and if he was surprised he certainly didn’t show it. His voice was even and casual. Bernard tried to mirror him.  

“Could I talk to you alone? Somewhere private?” 

He caught a glimpse of uncertainty in Tim’s expression, but it was quickly concealed by disappointment. 

“Sorry, I can’t. I’m on my way to class.” 

Bernard nodded, but he was panicked. He had to get answers from Tim, and this could be his only chance. Should he ask for his number? Should he bring up the letter? 

“But I’m free tonight,” Tim said. 

Bernard smiled. 

#

Kon landed on the roof of Wayne Manor. Tim seemed to think it was a bad idea for him to fly there, but he wasn’t going to stop until Bruce told him to. 

Besides, he wasn’t here to meet Tim.  

“You wanted to talk?” Kon said. Stephanie, in a pair of shades, was sitting criss cross applesauce on the roof. She jumped up. 

“Yeah. We have a lot to talk about.”

#

Bernard suggested Perch, and Tim called ahead to get them a table. The rooftop dinning area was beautiful, with tall bamboo trees and globe lights strung between them giving off a warm glow. They were surrounded by the night sky and towering skyscrapers. The ground below them was a lit up puzzle of traffic. 

Bernard was going to bring up the letter, but then he asked about his classes.

He was going to bring up the letter, but then he ordered a bottle of wine. 

They caught up over filet mignon and by the time they were served their white chocolate bread pudding, Bernard was smiling so much his cheeks hurt. 

#

At lot of people had questions for a Kryptonian. Kon was only half, but he’d faced his fair share of evil businessmen and supervillains and deluded scientists who wanted to interrogate him before unraveling his DNA. 

Stephanie’s questions unraveled him in a different way. 

“What did your letter say?” 

“That he liked me. I don’t remember the details. He took it back,” Kon said and privately added and he burned it. That really bothered him, for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate. It just did. For one thing, it seemed disrespectful to the Tim who had written it. 

“Did Damian give it to you?” 

“He left it in my mailbox.” 

“Why did Damian want revenge on Tim?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did he tell you what he wrote in my letter?” 

“A little. He didn’t really remember. He was drunk. Totally out of it.” 

“It’s well written.” 

Kon paused. Her heart was beating steadily.

“Do you think he meant what he wrote?” 

She folded her arms. 

“Do you?” 

“Do I think my boyfriend has feelings for you?” 

She took off her shades. 

“Look. Let’s cut the bullshit. I know he wrote letters to you, me, and Cassie.” 

Kon desperately tried to smother his surprise. She didn’t seem to notice. 

“He took back Cassie’s letter, told her it was a prank, but she told me it seemed sincere. The only explanation that makes sense to me is that he had crushes on all of us, tried to work through his feelings by writing it out, and then freaked out when Damian delivered them.” 

“Maybe you should ask Tim. All I know is that now, the only person he has feelings for is me.” 

“And you really like him?” 

“Do I actually need to prove it to you?” Kon said, frustrated. “I spend so much time thinking about things I could do to make him smile. Anything, from the perfect date to saying something stupid just to make him laugh. I could kiss him for hours, or days, and never get bored. And I’ve thought about it. I think about him all the time. He’s so smart, I wish I could see how his mind works. He thinks of things I wouldn’t in a million years, like he’s smart but also creative? And he’s stubborn. He’s frustrating, but he’s so breathtaking. Always. One night we were on the couch, him asleep next to me, and I thought Tim, snoring on my shoulder, was breathtaking.” 

“Alright, I believe you… Kon?” 

He sat down on the roof. 

“Kon?” 

“What?”

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Stephanie sat down next to him and gave him a soft, knowing smile. 

“Did you just realize you’re in deep?” 

Kon looked straight ahead, at the sprawling gardens of Wayne Manor. The roof was sturdy beneath his hands but he felt like he was free falling.  

“Yeah. I guess I did.” 

#

Bernard walked him back to his dorm. 

Tim invited him inside. 

Bernard kissed him before the door fully closed. 

Tim’s eyes went wide, but Bernard’s were closed. He prided himself on his ability to think on his feet. He had to make split second decisions all the time. But his heart rate skyrocketed and Bernard put a hand on his waist, and he was dating Kon, but not really, and he’d kissed someone before, but not really, and didn’t he deserve to kiss someone who wanted him back? 

Tim pushed him away. 

Bernard instantly looked panicked. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. 

“It’s okay,” Tim said, his mind still going a mile a minute. 

“No, I mean, we don’t have to do anything,” Bernard rambled, “I mean, this was perfect already. Awesome first date. Like, the best I’ve ever had. Ten out of ten. Am I making this awkward?” 

Tim reeled. He didn’t know this was a date. Did it still count if he didn’t know? 

Bernard calmed down and started again. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m not usually like this. It’s just— I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I really like you, Tim.” 

Their eyes met. Nobody had ever said that to him before. 

The Composition notebook was in the top drawer of Tim’s desk. That was where he and Kon wrote out the rules of their agreement. He remember exactly what Kon had said when they talked about seeing other people. If you want to keep hooking up with whoever— At the time, he hadn’t finished but Tim could fill in the blanks. You can. Feel free. Go for it. 

Tim put a hand on Bernard’s cheek. 

Bernard glanced at the hand, then back to Tim. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Tim said, and then kissed him. 

#

Stephanie wanted to talk to Tim. 

Kon wasn’t sure he wanted to, but he agreed to fly her there. He carried her bridal style and flew higher and higher until the city looked like a tangled pile of Christmas lights. Tim had been ignoring Steph’s texts for days, so Kon agreed to find him. 

He flew over Gotham University. 

“He’s in his dorm,” Kon said, before he made sense of what he was hearing. 

He hovered midair and listened. 

“Let’s go,” Steph said, looking at him strangely. 

“We can’t,” Kon said. Quietly. 

“Why?” 

Kon hovered. 

“He’s sleeping,” he said. “You know how rare that is. You can talk to him tomorrow.” 

“But—” she started. She shut her mouth when Kon took off toward the manor. She didn’t want to swallow any bugs. Kon flew as fast as he could, safely with Steph, and desperately tried to listen to her heartbeat, her breathing, her hair follicles growing. Anything to get the distinct sounds of Tim hooking up with someone else out of his head. 

#

Bernard stood right outside Tim’s door. 

“Bye,” he said. 

“Bye,” Tim said. 

They were both smiling like idiots. 

“Have a good night.”

“You too.” 

“Thanks,” he said. Then he turned and walked down the hall and Tim finally shut the door. He was still smiling. He went to his desk and pulled out the Composition notebook. He flipped to the page after their list and grabbed a pen. 

Someone knocked on his door. 

Bernard. Tim glanced around but he hadn’t forgotten anything. Maybe he decided to bring up the letter after all. He should’ve known it was too good to be true. He braced himself and opened the door, but it wasn’t Bernard. 

“We need to talk,” Kon said, sliding past Tim into the room. 

Tim was caught off guard and for the hundredth time wished he had super-hearing. 

He had no idea what he looked like at that moment, but he and Bernard had been on the bed for a while. His hair was probably messy. His mouth was probably pink. But even if Kon didn’t notice his appearance, he did, in fact, have super-hearing. He must’ve heard them. How else would he have known where Tim was? The real question now was how long had he been listening? 

“Stephanie asked me some questions about your letters,” Kon said. 

Tim closed the door. 

“She didn’t believe it was a prank. But I convinced her that we have real feelings for each other. You’re welcome.” 

“That was always the plan.” 

“Yeah. But you know what wasn’t the plan? You lying to my face when I specifically asked if you wrote a letter to Cassie.” 

Tim scoffed, to hide his wave of relief. 

“That’s what this is about?” 

“Just tell me if you like her.” 

“I promise, you have nothing to worry about. I—” 

“Why would I be worried?” Kon asked with a frantic edge. 

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” Tim said, gently, which only infuriated Kon more. “I know you like her. I’ve always known.” 

Kon looked surprised. Tim brushed past it. 

“Which is great. You two will sort through your issues, and one day you’ll be the power couple of the Justice League. A stupid letter I wrote in high school is completely irrelevant.” 

“Tim, I don’t how you got this so wrong, but I don’t like her. If I wanted to date her, I would ask her out. That’s what people normally do.” 

Tim felt a flash of hurt, sure he was making a dig at the letters. Kon continued. 

“If you want to ask her—or anyone—out, you should. I’m only upset because you lied to me.” 

Tim walked toward him, slowly.  

“How long were you secretly listening to me?” 

Kon was silent. 

“Or should I say, listening to us?” Tim asked. Kon jumped to his own defense. 

“Stephanie wanted to talk to you, but we didn’t know where you were, so I listened for you. But, obviously, I heard you and— that guy— for like five seconds and then then I told her you were sleeping.” 

He and Kon were standing and talking, not even yelling, but it felt exactly like a fight with complicated footwork and sharpened blades. 

“You shouldn’t have listened for me. You could’ve called,” Tim said like swinging a sword. 

“You left us both on read,” Kon said like metal hitting metal. “And you should be thanking me. What if Stephanie had come here by herself and walked in on you and someone else?” 

“Is that why you’re really upset?” Tim went for the kill. 

“What? Why would I be upset?” Kon tucked and rolled. 

“Because when we started this, you stopped hooking up with other people.” 

“I don’t even want to hook up with other people.” 

It was like Tim’s sword clattered to the ground. 

“So you admit, you want to date Cassie?” 

“No, that’s not. . .” Kon trailed off. He dropped his sword. Tim wanted to grab him by the collar and beg him to finish his thought. Their eyes met. 

There was a knock on his door. 

It seemed impossible for Dick to interrupt them for a third time, not here, but Tim knew better than to underestimate his passion for sticking his nose in other people’s business. Tim opened the door all the way. 

It was Bernard. 

Tim pulled the door halfway closed and stood in the small space that remained.

“Hey, Tim. Um. I realized I forgot to get your number.” 

Tim could feel Kon’s eyes on him, but he focused on Bernard and tried to smile like a normal person. 

“Oh, right. Give me your phone. I’ll text myself.” 

“Cool.” 

“Yeah,” Tim said, aiming for chill. Bernard handed him his phone and tried to look over his shoulder. Tim closed the door even more, leaving barely just enough space for him to stand. 

He texted himself as fast as he could and handed the phone back. 

“Thanks,” Bernard said. 

“No, thank you,” Tim said, then immediately felt like an idiot. Bernard sort of smiled and gave once last glance over Tim’s shoulder. 

“I’ll text you,” Bernard said. 

“Awesome,” he said, then Bernard finally put him out of his misery and walked away.  He quietly closed the door, took a moment to collect himself, and turned around. 

Kon was standing closer than he remembered. 

“So, when are we ending this?” 

“Cass needs to see our relationship to believe it.” 

“It’s been three weeks. When is she—” 

“She’s back this weekend. Steph is planning a big dinner.” 

“And after she sees us, we can break up?” 

Tim knew what he should do. He should ask if Kon wanted to stage their break up now. He’d already done so much to help him, it was selfish to ask him to get through another whole evening of pretending to be together. 

But he couldn’t let things end like this, awkward and angry in his stupid dorm room. He wanted one last night, a good memory, of a beautiful fantasy world where his feelings for Kon were requited. 

“Yes. Just one more night,” Tim said. Kon nodded. 

“Great. And, uh, hey, let me know if you ever want me to be your wingman. Not that you need it, I guess. That guy seems cool.” 

“He is,” Tim said, and it felt like the killing blow. 

#

Damian once gave Tim a piece of advice which, like all his advice, was unsolicited. 

Tim landed flat on his back on a well-worn training pad in the Batcave. 

“Drake,” he said, pinning him with his staff, “You have once again proven your incompetence. Yet, your disappointing reaction times have helped me once before, so I shall give you this advice.” 

Tim dropped his head to the mat and closed his eyes. 

Damian poked him in the chest. 

“Look at me when I speak.” 

Tim, his eyes still closed, grabbed the staff and pushed up just long enough to roll away. He grabbed his own staff off the floor and twirled it until he had the right grip. He opened his eyes right as Damian rushed him, but he blocked the move easily. They traded blows, wood cracking against wood, but Tim quickly regained the advantage. 

“When I fought those killer robots at that child’s birthday party,” Damian said, then paused when Tim got a hit on his ankles. He jumped back and they circled each other, “Due to the unreasonable time you took changing into uniform—“ 

Tim twisted his staff across his body and rushed forward, forcing Damian to retreat. Damian made a desperate stab, which Tim was quick to block. 

“— It changed the way I behave at school. Father stressed the importance of maintaining my alter ego, but it was too unnatural for me to act like a stupid—“ 

Hit. 

“Helpless—“ 

Hit. 

“Average person, like you. How could any of my classmates respect me? They did not know me.” 

“You always deserve to be treated with respect,” Tim said, beginning a relentless attack with tight, controlled movements. Damian was finally starting to sweat. 

“Of course. And the true idiots who don’t, I won’t mourn. Let me rephrase. I now find several classmates tolerable, a select few even admirable, and it is because I am finally being myself around them. If you want to be seen, you must first show. Do I make myself clear?” 

“No,” Tim said. 

“Tell the clone you’re in love with him.” 

Tim was surprised for a split second but it was enough. Damian swept his legs, and Tim landed with a thud on his back. 

Damian pinned him with his staff and sneered. 

“You make this too easy.” 

#

Cass had been gone for a month. 

It was the longest month of Stephanie’s life. 

Nothing felt real when she was unable to debrief with Cass afterwards. She wanted to know what she thought about everything, like the new Sandra Bullock movie, the fact that Dick and Barbara were talking again, the reported sightings of Red Hood in Star City, the new friends Damian had at school, and the new granola bar recipe Alfred was trying with a horrifying ratio of craisins. 

And the letter. 

She liked Kon well enough, and he obviously liked Tim, but she knew that something was still off about the whole situation. Cass would be able to tell instantly. 

She arrived home just in time for breakfast. 

Dick, Damian, Stephanie, and Cass sat around the dinning table. Cass shared the details of her mission, although everything involving her father came with layers of secrets. Stephanie cut into her waffle and but her eyes never strayed from Cass’s face. She understood why Cass wanted to destroy her father’s empire herself, perhaps better than anyone, but it wasn’t fair that it so often pulled her away from Gotham. At least Stephanie’s family committed terrible crimes within the city limits. 

“What did you miss the most? Besides me.” Stephanie asked. 

“Besides you,” Cass repeated, thinking it over with a smile. “Hmm. My bed. I can’t wait to sleep early tonight.” 

“Not too early. You have your surprise—“ 

Stephanie snapped her mouth shut, eyes wide, but it was too late. 

Dick seemed amused, but Damian shook his head with disgust. 

“Father should have wiped your memory when he had the chance. You and your fat mouth should be grateful for his sentimentality.” 

“Damian, it’s okay. I already knew there was going to be a surprise party,” Cass said. “There’s a tank of helium and a box of balloons outside the ballroom.” 

“Oh, wow, so who’s fault is it really?” Steph said, straight to Damian. 

“Yours,” he said, glaring. 

“Um, no, because you’re in charge of decorations.” 

“I am not.” 

“I’m the party planner, and I say you are. Unless you want the party to be boring and ugly. Or,” she gave him a side eye, “you don’t know how to blow up balloons?” 

“I am more than capable of such a frivolous task,” Damian said. 

“Well, Cass missed me the most, so we’re going to hang out. If you won’t get off your lazy butt and decorate, I guess you’ll just force me and Cass to set up for her own surprise party, even though she just got back, and—” 

“If it will shut you up, consider it done,” Damian said. He turned to Dick with a panicked look in his eyes. 

Dick pushed his plate forward and stood. 

“Why don’t I give you a hand with the balloons?” 

“I don’t need your help,” Damian snapped and stormed off. 

Dick sighed and put a hand on the back of Steph’s chair. 

“You know this means I’m stuck on decorating duty, too.” 

“Why don’t you ask Barbara to help?” Stephanie asked, sweetly. 

“Why don’t you shut up?” Dick asked, mimicking her tone. He flicked her ponytail and then turned to Cass. 

“I’m glad you’re home.” 

“Me too,” she grinned. Dick trailed off after Damian, and just like that, they were alone. 

Steph scooted her chair closer, until they were touching. 

“I really missed you,” she said. “And I have so much to catch you up on.” 

“Dick and Barbara are back together,” Cass said. 

Steph leaned one elbow on the table, confident that if Cass said it, it was true, but still curious. 

“How do you know?” 

“His haircut is uneven. She’s cutting it again.” 

She put her chin in her hand. 

“God, you’re so hot when you find clues.” 

Cass smirked and then turned somber. 

“Is something wrong with Tim?” 

Her jaw went slack. There was good detective skills, and then there was impossible omniscient knowledge. 

“Um, yeah. Yeah. How can you tell?” 

“He’s not here.” 

“Oh. Right,” Steph said. “Well, he’s probably with his boyfriend.” She smirked at Cass’s expression, “Ha, I finally surprised you. But babe, that’s not the craziest part. I have to show you something.” 

Cass studied her curiously.  

#

Tim stood on the front porch and panicked. 

It was nighttime. The lights in the topiaries had automatically switched on. Wayne Manor was on the edge of Gotham, far enough from other buildings that a few stars managed to glow in the inky sky above him. Kon was late by ten minutes, but ten minutes was a long time when you could fly at super speed. 

Tim was getting cold. 

Kon landed next to him and he could finally breathe. 

“You’re late,” Tim said. 

“Oh,” Kon said. “Uh, sorry. I lost track of time.” 

Tim looked him up and down. He had obviously dressed up for the occasion, unless he had black tie plans for later tonight. Tim’s gaze caught on the collar of his white button up shirt, underneath his dark red jacket. He’d missed a button, or maybe it was a purposeful choice, to make the look a bit more casual. Either way, it showed off an absolutely perfect triangle of his tanned, toned chest that Tim couldn’t pull his eyes away from. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him in something like this. Maybe never. He wore a t-shirt and sweatpants to Clark’s wedding. Of course, his clothes didn’t really matter. T-shirt or suit, Tim would imagine pulling it off of him anyway. 

“Tim?” 

Tim blinked. 

“I was just thinking about Cass. She’s a genius with body language. We need to be especially physical tonight.” 

“Great,” Kon said. Then he practically tripped over himself to clarify, “I mean, not great— I mean, it’s cool. Whatever we need to do.” 

Tim felt a flash of hurt but hid it behind a flat expression. 

“Great,” Tim said, and led the way inside. 

The ballroom was the largest room in the manor. The ceilings were so tall it was hard to make out the details of the intricate paint job. There were twisted clouds, silver bursts of stars, and angelic imagery spread throughout. The walls were white and silver, with rows of arched mirrors. Several white-clothed tables filled with people were set up on the shiny black dance floor. Silver candelabras flickered with golden flames all around the room. 

Bright balloons, every color of the rainbow, were pressed against the ceiling. It gave the grand room a much more cheerful atmosphere. Hot pink streamers were beautifully woven between the mirrors. Someone had even set up a photo-booth, with a glittery silver backdrop and an assortment of fun props. 

Tim and Kon held hands as they walked in. Kon’s eyes lit up as he looked around the room. 

“Damn. Stephanie went all out.” 

“Well, it’s been a month. That’s a long time to miss someone,” Tim searched the crowd for either of them, though he assumed they’d be together. Dick and Barbara had a table to themselves. Damian looked bored at a table with Bruce, Selina, Diana, and Jackie Yoneyama. Lian chased Titus, Damian’s dog, around the room. Duke, Bart, and Cassie laughed loudly together at a table. Jim Gordon hovered awkwardly near the appetizers. Jason, Starfire, and Roy stood and chatted next to the doorway, probably in case Jason made accidental eye contact with Bruce and had to flee the scene.

Once they’d walked further inside, Kon stopped him with a hand on his lower back. He had to lean down a bit to speak softly in his ear. 

“They’re about to walk in.” 

Tim felt a shiver down his spine and ignored it. He ignored everything, the heat growing in the pit of his stomach, the way Kon’s eyes shone in the candlelight, and the rich smell of his cologne. 

He reached up and took his face in his hands with a touch so light it was barely there. Kon immediately put a hand over his. Tim shook his head subtly. 

“You should put your hands around my waist.” 

Kon did, and Tim wrapped his arms loosely around his neck.

“Should we kiss?” Kon whispered. 

Tim inhaled. His gaze dropped to his mouth, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t answer, and Kon’s heart started racing, and finally, Cas and Stephanie walked into the room. 

“Surprise!” Dick, Diana, Jackie, Duke, Bart, Cassie, and Starfire shouted. 

“Surprise,” a few people, like Barbara and Roy, shouted a beat too late. 

“There’s no need for this pretense. Brown spoiled it for her this morning, as she spoils everything,” Damian, with his arms crossed, announced to everyone at his table.  

“Hey, she doesn’t seem to mind,” Selina remarked, watching Cass’ bright smile as she looked around the room. 

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. 

“She is a gifted detective. They are difficult to surprise,” Diana remarked. 

“Not always. Would you agree, Bats?” Selina asked with a perfectly innocent expression. 

“Tonight I’m Bruce.” 

“Oh, good,” Selina grinned evilly, “I know I can surprise Bruce.” 

He sipped his water and raised one eyebrow. 

Jackie turned to Diana. 

“And how do you know Cassandra?” 

“I have hopes she might choose the life of an Amazon yet,” Diana said. “And you?” 

“I caught her dumpster diving behind my restaurant years ago and helped her out. Now she visits, but not often enough. I think mostly for the free ramen.” 

“What exemplary customer service,” Diana said, in awe, “I would be honored to try your establishment.” 

Jackie happily gave her directions and a long-winded walk through of the menu. 

Cass and Stephanie walked over to Tim and Kon. Tim stepped back, once he was sure Cass had seen them intertwined. 

“Tim, I missed you,” Cass said and wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“I missed you, too,” he said, patting her back and then instantly regretting it. He was terrible with hugs. Even after years of exposure therapy, due to living in close proximity to Dick Grayson, they felt unnatural. 

She pulled back, smiling, and Tim felt certain that this month of lying and staged dates and confusing feelings had been worth it. He would do anything to not only save his relationship with Cass, but make sure she never felt bad or guilty or awkward around him. He cared about all of his siblings in different ways, but Cass was the only one who he had never hurt. 

After Jason’s death, Dick wanted nothing to do with him. He could barely look at him, especially in the Robin costume, at first. Jason and Damian both attempted to kill him when they first met, and in Damian’s case, multiple times afterwards. Once Duke figured out he was Red Robin, it took him a long time to forgive him for lying. 

But he had never hurt her. 

He couldn’t bear the thought. Especially over something as avoidable and unimportant as feelings. 

He looked at Stephanie, who looked beautiful with her long blonde hair fanned around her shoulders and a violet cocktail dress with a deep V neckline. The truth was, he didn’t have romantic feelings for her anymore. Writing his letters worked. He suddenly remembered a moment with Kon, in the backyard of the party, the smell of rain, and the feeling of his lips, and admitted to himself that it wasn’t just the letter. Whatever the reason, his feelings for her were gone. Now he just missed his best friend. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” Cass said to Kon. 

“Yeah. You, too,” he said. He wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders and squeezed. Subtlety was never his strength. 

Cas glanced between them but her expression revealed nothing. Duke, Bart, and Cassie walked over and joined them. They each pulled a hug from Cass and chatted about her mission. She gave them the highlights. 

“Did you like Germany?” Duke asked. 

“Not as much as Gotham,” she assured him. He looked doubtful but didn’t call her out. His gaze caught on Kon’s arm. 

“Hey, the next time anyone has a major life update, you better call me. I had to find out you two were dating from Jason. Jason knew before me. He’s never around anymore, I know he has Tim’s number blocked, and honestly Kon, I’m not sure he actually knows your name. He called you Superkid.” 

“Close enough,” Kon said, glancing toward Jason. 

“I guess Bart and I are lucky. They sat us down and told us,” Cassie said. “Like a mission debriefing.” 

“Did he make a slideshow?” Duke asked, only half joking. 

“God, I wish,” she said. “Can you imagine? The clipart alone—” 

“I would never use clipart,” Tim defended himself. 

“Yeah, obviously. White background, Times New Roman: Superboy and I are in love.” Duke teased. 

“And a single clipart heart,” Cassie said. “Don’t worry, Tim, very tasteful.” Duke laughed. Tim rolled his eyes. 

“If you two break up, I actually will need a slideshow to explain why we’ll be having two Christmases,” Bart said. 

“Tim’s Jewish,” Kon said. “So two Hanukkahs.” 

“Whoa. Nineteen days of presents,” Bart said. 

“Not sure it works like that,” said Duke.  

“It does in the future.” 

“You can’t just say that every time you’re wrong,” said Cassie.  

By the time dinner was served, Tim and Kon ended up at a table with Dick, Barbara, Stephanie, and Cass. Cass answered a few questions about her mission and Barbara paid rapt attention. Dick seemed tense, shoving food in his face robotically, but Tim expected as much with Starfire and Barbara under the same roof. Starfire seemed unbothered, eating happily at a table with Roy, Jason, and oddly enough, Damian, who was glaring at his plate. Maybe he got sick of Bruce and Selina’s flirting. 

“Do you want this?” Tim asked Kon, gesturing to his cheesy bread roll. 

“Yeah,” Kon answered immediately. He grabbed it and pulled off a chunk, then asked, “You don’t like them?” 

“I like them,” Tim shrugged, “But I know you love them.” 

Kon smiled, soft and slow, like Tim had just done something really nice. It wasn’t a big deal, it was a piece of bread. There was more in the kitchen. That smile though, aimed at him, was intoxicating. He suddenly felt too far away, but if they were any closer they’d be sharing a chair. His fingers itched to touch him, and he realized this was probably the last chance he’d ever have to give in to the impulse. He didn’t let himself overthink it. Tim put a hand on his knee under the table. Kon grabbed Tim’s wine and took a sip to hide his smile. 

“Get your own drink,” Tim said, his eyes bright. 

“Are you afraid of my germs?” 

“Obviously not,” Tim said, casually, but his eyes were bright with a challenge. He moved his hand up his thigh. He made sure it was subtle, not even moving the table cloth. Kon snapped his eyes to Tim’s, unable to hide the excitement on his face. He put down the wine glass, so fast some splashed against the sides, and Tim fought down a smirk. 

Cass pulled Tim away, down the hall and through the closest door, which happened to lead to the billiards room. The walls were a rich red wood, with three built in bookshelves, packed with thick books, that stretched floor to ceiling. A devastating oil painting of a ship trying to stay above water during a dark and stormy night hung above the fireplace. A pool table with red felt stood in the center of the room, the colorful triangle of balls ready to be broken, but Cass didn’t look like she was in the mood for games.  

“Tim, it’s time for me to be honest.” 

Her white jumpsuit stood out even more starkly in this room, against the wood. Her short black hair curled at the edges, right at her chin, and the expression on her face was determined. He thought of a dozen things she could say next, and none of them were good. He braced himself 

“I know you like Stephanie.” 

His stomach dropped. 

“I’ve always known,” she continued, “I can’t stop myself from reading people. I just can’t.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he really was. The whole month of headache was for nothing. She knew. She always knew. Maybe everyone knew.  

“No,” she said. “I’m sorry.” 

This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. 

“You have nothing to apologize for.“ 

“I knew I should’ve asked you before I— Or at least talked— but— I— It’s hard to explain,” she said, growing frustrated. 

“I should’ve been the one to bring it up,” Tim said. “But I didn’t. Don’t be sorry, please. The letter you read, well, there’s no point in hiding now.” 

Tim told her everything, from the beginning. Kon showing up on his campus, seeing Stephanie walking toward them, the fake dating plan, trying to convince everyone. Cass listened attentively, but with a perfect poker face. Tim continued rambling. 

“I was really upset when I wrote that. I didn’t think anyone would read it. I’ve written letters like that for years, addressed to people I like so I can get over them. And just so you know, it works every time. I don’t like her anymore.” 

He forced himself to shut up. Cass stood, thoughtfully.  

Out of all his siblings, not including himself, Cass was the least impulsive. That was part of the reason she was such a good match for Steph. Stephanie was silly, loud, and dramatic but her choices were calculated. She needed someone who thought things through as much as she did. But while Steph felt compelled to fill every silence with sound, Cass was perfectly at home in the quiet. Together they were a perfectly balanced conversation. 

“Why?” Cas eventually asked. 

“Um,” Tim stammered, “I don’t know. I guess, when I started having feelings for someone else, I realized how much of my crush on her was based on a fantasy. I mean, she and I have never been like that. We were perfect, in my head, but now I know how different dating someone feels when it’s really happening.” 

“That’s not what I’m asking,” she said, furrowing her brows, “I meant, why do you want to get over the people you like? Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” 

“I . . .” Tim gaze fell to the floor. “I don’t know. It seems like it would be an awkward mess.” 

She chuckled and put a hand on his arm. Their eyes met. 

“It is,” she said, brightly, “But it’s also wonderful. Why would you want to stop before you even start? I think the real reason I never asked you about your crush was because I was afraid you would tell me to stop liking her. I don’t want to imagine a world where I’m over her. I would be so sad. And what would I do with all that free time?” 

He laughed, and they shared a smile. 

“You should talk to Steph. She’s upset,” said Cass. 

“Yeah, I don’t know why I tried lying to her in the first place,” Tim shook his head. “This ended up being just as messy and awkward.” 

“But I’m sure it was nice to spend time with Kon,” she said with a knowing look in her eyes that made his skin crawl. He’d reached his limit on emotional vulnerability for the week. 

“Yeah. He’s a good friend,” he said, and immediately realized that was overkill. She looked more convinced than before. He shouldn’t have put so much emphasis on friend. 

“I hope you find someone you don’t want to get over.” 

“Thanks. Seriously, Cass, I—” Tim said but Cass cut him off by pulling him into a hug. He froze for a moment and then wrapped his arms around her tightly. Maybe he was getting better at this. 

Tim knew he had to talk to Steph eventually, but he also knew Cass would tell her everything soon. Cassandra Cain could keep a secret, but she would never keep one from her. There was nothing Stephanie hated more than secrets. 

He and Cass returned to their table, but Barbara and Stephanie were chatting alone. 

“Where’s Kon?” Tim asked, trying to keep his thoughts from spinning into an irrational storm of anxiety. He told himself there was almost no chance that Kon suddenly realized Tim’s true feelings and flew away in disgust with plans to ignore him forever. 

“Dick asked him to take a walk,” Barbara said, pointedly. “Which reminds me, how could you tell Jason before you told me about your first boyfriend? Did Jason watch Big Fish with you a million times when you were a ten year old in love with Ewan McGregor?” 

“I was going to tell you when you told me about Dick,” Tim shot back. She glanced away, so Tim knew he was right, “And you let him go off with Kon alone, so let’s call it even.” 

“Eh, deal. And Tim,” she smiled, “I'm happy for you. I know Dick is, too.” 

“Thanks,” he said, and then raced out of the room to find his brother before he ruined everything. 

“You’ve really only spent time with Tim through the Titans. When you’re on a team like that, everyone gets close and emotions can get intense. When you’re fighting with someone, in these life or death situations, it’s easy to get caught up in the moment. I understand that, maybe better than anyone. But listen, I’ve always liked you, Kon. I know you’ve dated a lot of people, but I don’t hold it against you, at all. I’d be a hypocrite.” 

Dick and Kon walked side by side through the gardens. White lights were strung along the tops of the ivy covered walls. There were a few stars twinkling in the sky, but Kon didn’t know the names of any of them. It made him feel stupid. He should know more about space. Tim would know. 

“So, what are you saying?” 

“I just,” Dick stopped walking, in front of the tall marble fountain in the center of the grass, “I just want you to be absolutely sure you’re with Tim for the right reasons. I know he seems self-assured and confident as a leader, but this is his first relationship. Ever. Did you know that?” 

“Yeah,” Kon said, defensively. “He told me, because we talk about things like that. And you don’t have to tell me what it’s like being on the Titans. I know.” 

“You were with Cassie for a long time,” he said, and he wasn’t smiling. 

Kon was starting to get annoyed. 

“Cassie’s my friend, and we used to hook up, but that’s over. There was never any overlap, not that it’s any of your business anyway.” 

Besides, you’d understand overlap, right? He thought, but but bit his tongue. He wasn’t here to pick a fight with Dick, although he definitely thought he would win. 

“And if you and Tim never fought side by side again,” Dick said, giving him a piercing look, “If he was kicked off the Titans tomorrow, you would still want to be with him?” 

“I want to be with him because I like my life way more when he’s apart of it. These last few weeks have been the most fun I’ve ever had, maybe ever. It’s not because he’s saved my life or I want to fuck someone after a mission, or whatever you’re accusing me of. I shouldn’t even be defending myself to you, I should be talking about this with Tim, who, by the way—“ Kon turned to the left and raised his voice, “is hiding in the bushes.” 

Tim stepped out from behind a topiary. Dick shook his head, but looked slightly amused. 

“I agree with my boyfriend,” Tim said, easily. He gave Dick an annoyed look, “You’re better than this, Dick.” 

“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay, since I had to hear all about your relationship status from Jason.” 

“Is there anyone he didn’t tell?” Tim snapped. 

“In his defense,” Dick started, as he often did when he talked about Jason, “He doesn’t know Kon at all, and I think he started to get worried when he thought he was the only one who knew you were dating a Kryptonian. No offense, Kon. He’d trust you if he knew you.” 

“Totally cool, I don’t trust him either.” 

“And you reassured him you knew the whole time?” Tim asked, mockingly. 

“Oh, please, I’ve known for years,” Dick said, folding his arms, “I acted oblivious, but that’s because I didn’t want to embarrass you back then. I’ve known since you were a kid, and you were obsessed with Superboy coming to your birthday party. Babs and I were just talking about this. You wouldn’t shut up about it for days—“ 

“Okay. Thanks for nothing. You can leave now.” Tim started nudging Dick back toward the manor. 

“I’ll tell you the details later,” Dick said, looking at Kon. 

“I’d love to hear it,” Kon said, looking far too full of himself. Even Dick doing his version of the shovel talk was likable. It was unreal. 

Suddenly, Tim and Kon were alone. The fountain made the loudest sound, water hitting the tier below it as it flowed. The lights pointed at the fountain illuminated the grass were they stood. 

Between his conversation with Cass, and what he heard while eavesdropping, he’d made up his mind. He knew what he wanted, he’d known for a while, and for once in his life it was time to tell them. 

“I need to tell you something,” Tim said the exact same moment that Kon spoke. 

“I want to use my favor.” 

They both looked surprised the other had spoken, and then awkwardly half-laughed and then gestured at the other to go first. Tim broke the silence. 

“You said something about a favor?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Kon said. “Yeah. You owe me a favor, remember?” 

“I remember,” Tim said and used every ounce of willpower in his body to keep looking Kon in the eyes instead of the mouth. 

“Well, yeah. I want to use it.” 

“What do you want?” Tim asked. 

Kon looked at him. Then he reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a blank envelope. 

“I want you to read this and. . . Just read it.” 

Tim felt heat rush to his face. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but it felt like trying to tie down helium balloons with invisible string. Maybe this wasn’t what he thought it was. Maybe he would open this envelope and read Dear Cassie, or Dear Bart, or Dear Tim, I never want to see you again. 

He slowly opened the envelope and then decided he had to turn away. He could still feel Kon’s eyes on him, but he focused on the paper in his hands. 

Dear Tim,  

it started. His eyes dropped to the next line. 

I wonder if you know what you do to me. That’s how your letter to me started. That’s pretty much all I remember, and probably because I read that line a million times trying to make sense of what you sent me. I’ve never written someone a letter before. There’s a lot of things I’ve never done that I want to do with you. This is probably badly written and it’s going to be short and I’m sorry because you deserve a really nice love letter. 

Tim felt tears burning behind his eyes. 

This is going to sound stupid, but I’m afraid I’m not a real person. Maybe it doesn’t sound stupid. I’m not human. I didn’t have a childhood. I’m always trying to make the most of the time I have now, to make up for all the years I didn’t get to have. That’s why I’ve never wanted to date one person before. I didn’t want to limit what I could experience. 

But now that I’ve experienced life with you, it’s all I want. You make me feel real, which is so stupid because this whole thing was supposed to be fake. I don’t think it was ever really fake for me. I can’t believe you agreed to this plan in the first place, because I’m a bad actor. You should know that. Everything I said about you, I meant. But just so you can see it written down: you’re the smartest, hottest, bravest, funniest person I know and I like you enough to write you a love letter. So I think I love you. 

I really want the chance to date you for real. If you want me to fuck off, you can burn this letter and we can do our fake breakup and things can go back to normal. I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have written that I love you and that I’m coming on too strong but I’m already late to the party and there’s no time for another draft. 

Sincerely, 

Kon 

Tim stood, with the letter clutched tightly and his back to Kon. 

“You know, you didn’t have to stand there when I read your letter,” Kon said. He was trying to make a joke, but he sounded nervous. It didn’t land. 

Tim turned around. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. Kon noticed the tears and looked panicked. 

“Shit,” Kon said. 

Tim laughed, which must’ve looked terrible with the tears, but he couldn’t help it. 

“I think I love you, too,” he said. And then they were smiling and then they were kissing. It wasn’t a kiss that promised a favor, but it promised something.